Cloven Dream
by Unyielding Wish
Summary: Somehow, when I first laid my eyes upon you, you had intoxicated me. Even if we are to be separated by society, I'll still find a way to come back to you. -Luka/Miku. Latter appears in later chapters.
1. One – The Girl Who Has Never Known Love

**《_WARNING_: **_**Please take note that **f__emmeslash MAY occur. It MIGHT NOT. I do not guarantee that it WON'T. If you are one who is not comfortable with reading femmeslash chapters, **I will post a**** warning** in front of each chapter that contains femmeslash, although in skipping it you may miss out on huge chunks of the story. **Rating fluctuates between T and M.**_**》**

**Cloven Dream  
One – The Girl Who Has Never Known Love**

I am the daughter of a lord.

At my whim, anyone I don't like can and shall be executed.

At my whim, I can receive jewelry, mountains of gold, emeralds, whatever I want.

I have everything.

I want everything.

And everything shall be given to me.

_l~u~k~a_

The January of the new century, 1500, was bitterly cold. Wind screeched and yowled and pounded against any structure standing and blew cold shafts into the rooms in which people huddled for warmth. The huge estate Luki Megurine lived in was veiled in a shroud of powdery white, sheathed in darkness, the only light being the candles made of fat and dung. In one of the rooms of this house, a few maids and midwife whispered to and soothed a maiden who was crying out in pain. A pink-haired man looked on emotionlessly at the doorway, smoothing his robes of fine, soft silk. Then he was gone, as if he were only a wishful mirage, and the maiden was alone with her heavy belly and her servants.

"Do not desert me!" she had cried after him, in her first night of pregnancy.

"It is your child, your choice to become pregnant," was his answer. "Your choice to allow that man to seduce you and make a child with you, your choice not to fight back. As your punishment I shall not help you with our baby. You shall take care of it yourself, and if you happen to not survive the birthing, so be it."

The three last words of his sentence hung in the air like bloodied jewels.

Since then, they had not spoken. The sullen man did not so much exchange a word with his betrothed, and she him. The maiden recalled this sadly.

Then the silence was broken by another shriek-wail. She screamed, clutching at the bed covers, beseeching her maids not to get near. The wind howled harmoniously, tauntingly. It was a wild song that everybody despised. Shaking, the maiden took a gulp of water, still drenched in sweat. The coldness of the day began to take hold of her again. She shivered, and was quickly steadied by the midwife.

"My lady, it is best not to struggle when in pregnancy."

The maiden's eyes were dry; she could not cry any more. Hiccups rattled her chest. "The baby…," she gasped. "_The baby…_"

"It is almost ready to be delivered."

What happened next was a terrifying tantrum. The maiden screamed more and threw her bedsheets off of her body. Tears awakened themselves once again, and they streaked down her cheeks. Lightning flashed outside, thunder rumbled. The maids rushed to put everything in order. Snow fell in flurries and drenched the world. A maid hurried to get olive oil. The maiden grabbed the midwife's hand in her own clammy ones.

"Thank you," the maiden said.

The baby came rushing out, drenched in blood.

She had pale, soft skin without so much a blemish on it. Silky pink locks curled in slight, short wisps around her head. Her eyes were closed, shut tight, but slowly as her muscles loosened, the midwife detected a hint of aquamarine blue in the deep teal eyes.

She was beautiful.

And she was I.

_l~u~k~a_

I have heard many retellings of this story. One of them claimed that Mother was the goddess of the moon, Father the god of the sun, I the star that twinkled most brightly in the night, even during the horrible whiteouts. Another insisted that Mother was immortal and gave birth to a child half goddess, half human. A third stated Father had abandoned his wife, but immediately went back to her again in her moment of need. However the storytellers choose to illustrate the tale, they are not more truthful than this one. I know because I heard from the midwife's lips myself.

The midwife has two major reputations in our palace. One is that she never tells a lie, so all she says is true. The other is that she is a magnificent tale-spinner. I ordered her one night to relay the story of my birth with no lies, to speak it point-blank, just to ensure that she could not do it—just so she could not lie. Nobody dares to disobey the daughter of a lord, much less the lord himself. In any case, she spoke it, and word by word I remembered.

Hearing it told, I was drawn in. The magnificence and the glory of hearing it myself. If my father finds out about this, he will surely have the midwife executed. She was trembling even though she sat beside the fireplace, her words tripped and stumbled over each other, and she was in a state of total wreck. But what do I care? Her demise, if Father was to ban her, means nothing to me.

Constantly servants peer at me in curiosity, as if they are trying to find something deep, deep down that I might have, any hint of kindliness in my eyes.

I am the daughter of a lord. I am harsh and cold. I am not kind.

I love not.

I know not.

And I will not open my heart to succumb to such weakness.

What a pathetic want, to fall in love.

* * *

** If you've read any one of my stories, you know that sometimes the designated character(s) come a few chapters after the first character comes in. In this case, Miku will not enter the story until the third or fourth chapter, and that is when the story will begin to turn out more like a fantasy. Apologies.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing as always C:**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	2. Two – To Take To --

**《**_**NOTE**_**: **_No femmeslash._**》**

**Cloven Dream  
****Two – To Take To Without Sparing Any Choice  
**

It is my fifteenth birthday, 30 January 1515. It is an auspicious date, for 1515 comes in a pattern, and January is the sacred first month of the year. The second-to-last day of January is certainly special, teetering on the edge.

There is no great celebration this year as it used to be any other year. Instead it was a morning just like any other. The icy winter sunshine seemed to quiver as it fell on a flat, bare patch on my floor. The branches outside were laden with snow, and a thick carpet of this precipitation covered the ground in a blanket. I was expecting a surprise, but there wasn't any. I sat in bed, contemplating this, when a maid came and declared that I was summoned to my father's room.

It seemed like forever.

I knocked on his door. Father never accepts a straight out entry, as he is a lord. I am his daughter, but I am still a rank lower than him.

His servant escorted us inside.

I had only been in Father's room twice. Once was when I was small and ventured in there, the other was the only other time I'd been summoned by him. He tries to avoid me as much as possible. _It's your aquamarine-teal eyes, Mistress Luka, _the midwife had said. She takes care of me now, because Father has made sure with himself that he would not breed with another woman as long as he lived, and the midwife was too valuable to give up. _It's your aquamarine-teal eyes that he so much remembers of your mother. Her betrayal was devastating to him. He only loves you, but it hurts inside, Mistress Luka._

Now as I entered, I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. I was a woman now. I was a Lady, not just a Mistress anymore.

Father's room was huge, and consisted of two sections. The one in the back was where he slept, a great bedroom full of finery and silks. His servants kept it tidy every day. The one in the front was where he worked, spoke with other lords, and occasionally dined when he was too busy to go anywhere otherwise. But that room was empty, and the servant led me through to Father's bedroom. Father was sitting on a plush velvet chair, his feet leaning on a smaller stool, but none less comfortable than the chair. Some polished black boots, curling up at the toes, sat beside his bed, with one servant busying himself with polishing them into even shinier leather. Father's feet were bare and a female servant leaned over him, painting his toenails with the beautiful, perfumed polish from crushed petals of flowers. His hands, I noticed, were already painted, and he was resting them as if to make them dry. He was handsome—lean and tall, his chiseled face framed with soft pink locks like mine. But it was a draining, dry sort of handsome, one that made me instantly feel that he was dangerous.

"Hello, Luka," Father said, smiling coldly.

I forced myself to curtsy. "May the Heavens be with you, my Lord." I may address him as "_Father"_ in my mind, but I cannot say "_Father"_ unless I want my back to be whipped raw, crisscrossed with scars that bite deep into my skin.

A servant handed Father a rose. He idly sniffed it before throwing it away, the rose petals scattering across the floor. His hard green eyes, flecked with gold, studied my face. I could not tear my eyes away. Finally, Father beckoned to me, his bitter, brittle jewels of eyes never leaving my own. "Come here, Luka."

I was right in front of him, arm's distance away, and he could reach out and slap me at any time. "Today is the thirtieth of January, I may recall," he said in an easy tone.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You are fifteen, no?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Fifteen makes a girl a woman." He smiled, but it wasn't genuine. It wasn't as if he was pulling at his face's muscles, but the smile was dangerous, warned of something undesirable coming. "… And it is a tradition in the Megurine family for a girl of fifteen to travel through the forest with servants and make peace with other lands, perhaps gain them as our own."

And the rock is brought crashing down.

_l~u~k~a_

I have five maids, two coachmen, eight magnificent horses, two carriages and one small coach, and nine other accompaniers traveling with me.

_l~u~k~a_

I was safely encased in the coach, a maid fussing over me, dusting my cheeks with powder. Another maid took a pencil made of lead and drew a beautiful thick black line on the outer edge of my eyes, making them more dramatic: a river of black on creamy white skin. A third maid brushed exotic colors of blues and greens on my eyelids, and her quick, flawless fingers left less than a tangle in my hair. My lips were rosebud pink, soft and inviting, but the maid who brought such colors of the heavens on my eyes was not satisfied. Her long purple hair whipping behind her, she thrust a hand in her apron pocket and brought out a perfume made of crushed rose petals, the same color as the one to paint my father's toenails, except perfumes center more on smell. She sprayed it over me, dousing me in a shower of fresh rose, and set to work with dramatising my lips. The rouge tickled as it was applied, but it was only a feathery feeling.

"Lady Luka," the third maid said after she finished, her eyes downcast. Nobody, nobody except Father, his greatest trustees, and the midwife ever looked into my eyes, much less now as I was a woman and able to rule. The third maid took out a white dress made of the finest fibers, decorated most lavish- and extravagantly: every ray of sunlight split, bent, and refracted upon the jewels at every point of view; the lace that rimmed the collar, the sleeves, the waist, and the dress's edge was frothy and light. She laid it out before me. "I would have to… strip you and change you."

"Surely you could do it somewhere else?" I demanded, and none too nicely either.

"Lady Luka… the Lord…" The third maid moistened her lips. "The Lord… Lord Luki, he said to me to change you in the carriage as soon as you're in and the makeup applied."

"Why so soon?" I was in a bad mood already and in no position to handle a maid pleasantly.

"I… don't know," the third maid stammered. The first and second maids, as they were finished, were trying to slip away, to their small coach. They are not important; they may do as they wish. I can tell this maid wanted to follow them very badly.

"Tell me your name," I commanded.

"Yuzuki Yukari, my Lady."

"Change me."

_l~u~k~a_

I do not understand why they are stretching my beauty to the maximum limit so soon. It would take at least a week to get to the next land, surely, with this great, thick forest between us. However, the coachman—the one that drives my carriage and has dark topaz eyes, the one whose hands were scarred from so many exertions with the tough rawhide reins, the one who recently just broke his finger—assured me that Father had taken the greatest measures so we would get to the next land by the third day's sundown. The horses are of very high quality and friendly; they are not Father's greatest, biggest, or fastest steeds, but they are nimble and able to maneuver through any kind of land. "… Besides, if we should meet a passerby in the forest while we are driving through, should he not stop and marvel at the daughter of Lord Luki?"

I have the first carriage. By my orders, Yuzuki Yukari is now with me in the first carriage, although she does not get half of the many privileges I do. The coachman sits in front, driving the first two horses. Two men, armed with swords, bows, and arrows ride on two other horses ahead of my carriage, scouting but not so far as for the coachman to lose sight of them. Close behind is the second carriage and two more horses, which carries five important men to negotiate lest my beauty and supposed helplessness does not charm the Lord of the next land to merge forces with ours. They are very stuffy and not very entertaining company, I'll have you know that. Father back is another coachman and the small coach, with the last two horses. Two men ride behind the small coach, with the same weapons as the two men ahead of my carriage. We are well protected, and it is not likely that we'd get any assault, but my coachman added, "Just in case."

It is always just in case, but the _just in case_ never happens.

_l~u~k~a_

We have begun on the journey.

At first, as we drove from the palace, the land was well-cropped and beautiful. The iciness that had settled in for winter has not yet retreated, but snowdrops and hazel catkins, cowslips and lesser celandine, and red campion are already filling the fields. But as soon as we reached the meadow where the prettiest flowers lay, the land reverted to rough, wild grassland, its soil thick with sod. The houses here were sparsely spaced and the farms were huge. The sun made its way to the noonday mark. After a few miles or so, the wheels began crunching on gravel.

There is nothing more discomforting than riding on bumpy, unpaved or badly-paved ground. The carriage jolts and twists and trips. The horses' _clip-clop _of hooves soon turn to _crunch-crunch_, and after a while that becomes tiring. I cannot do anything without the carriage shaking somewhat. Yuzuki Yukari has taken the midwife's job; as the midwife cannot come with me, Yukari is the one teaching me my letters and numbers and calligraphy. The midwife does not know much, and can only teach me a limited amount, but Yuzuki Yukari knows even less. However, she can shape her letters beautifully, and she knows some words I do not although she is many ranks lower than me. Even then, the carriage's jolting prevents her from writing beautifully in any way.

I sighed and settled into a cushiony pillow. Yuzuki Yukari looked at me sympathetically. I had no idea that this trip would be so boring. _Surely, _I had hoped before, _they'd occupy me with something._ And there was nothing. Nothing, except mending and sewing, what Yuzuki Yukari was doing now.

I am the daughter of a lord.

I do not mend or sew.

That is the job of a commoner, a girl born in a middle- or low-class family, who turns into a woman at twelve and marries at the same time, thirteen being the latest. It is the law of our kingdom. If a commoner does not marry, then she would be a spinster forever, lest she disguise her age and runs off with a man. However, that is an inconceivable sin, one that would land her forever in the hell that awaits her. If a common girl knows better, she would try to find a suitable man by eleven-and-a-half and make him noticed by her parents.

As I have nothing else to do, I will go over the fuss about hell, all about it that I know, passed down from the midwife and other people I happened to overhear. Most of it, however, are from the midwife.

The hell… it has no place on our status rank. It is so low, it is more evil than the most evil thing committed, and I will not go into that, for it makes chills crawl across my skin, all the things humanity has done. Likewise my birth story, I have heard many variations about this tale, and this hell. It is known commonly that a woman and a man were responsible for the creation of the hell. The sins they committed, the crimes they beheld in their hearts. I only know that that little slice of information is true; and then, the story veers off into many paths, and those paths have forks as well. I recall a conversation we had once—

"Hell, Mistress Luka, is something so dark and bloody that it cannot be put into words. To sink below the lowest, the lower than low… it simply is such a horror that not even the scribe who is most skillful with words can explain. It is a wide sinkhole, layers and layers of darkness, its bottom unseen. Once you step in it there is no going back. You are pulled down, down, and _down_, toward the deep core. And there _is_ no core. Hell keeps going on and on. The ride is terrifying… yes, Mistress Luka, utterly terrifying. You are raked mercilessly through spears and forks, pummeled over and over, battered until you cannot be battered any more… and yet you still _are_ hurt, again and again, beyond your physical limit, beyond your mind's comprehension, until everything is just a blur to you. There is no exit to Hell. Only an entrance. And how terrifying that entrance looked! It—"

"You are being repetitive, Midwife," I had said.

"Repetitive it is! For Hell is a pattern that always changes and never changes; it is an extreme, an opposite of what it is. Hell was there at the base of existence, as was Heaven. Everybody wishes to get into Heaven, Mistress Luka, but only a portion are allowed in. The rest wander around in something that is not quite paradise like Heaven and not quite terror like Hell either. Yet they are contented. Back to Hell.

"… Where was I? Oh, yes, beyond your physical limit!" The midwife was getting very intense into the story. "It is so incredibly _horrible_. Even though you have your physical limit exercised, it is nothing like your mental limit! The moment you enter Hell you begin teetering on the edge of insanity. And you are pulled across the line. There is no helping it—if you don't wish to, and try to resist, it only happens all the faster. Centuries, Mistress Luka. Centuries of endless screaming, imagining of things that are not there, visions of appalling, awful things that make you want to die, but you _are_ dead, and yet you want to die again… and _again… _and _again._ You want to relive your life, you want to go back and change the mistakes, but it is too late for them to change! So… therefore, as a little painkiller…"

I remember this part well. I was too fearful of what she was going to say next. "Intoxication?" I was whispering at that point.

"Ah… intoxication. _No_… not… _quite_. Intoxication is a sin, although it is not necessarily a bad sin." The midwife's forehead creased. "Mistress Luka, it is beyond your designated time for rest. You must go to sleep now."

"Lady Luka." Yukari's voice distracted me from my reverie.

"I thought you should know," quietly, with her eyes still downcast. "You seemed so spiritless, inattentive. But… we've entered the forest."

I turned my head and looked out of the carriage. Yukari was right. The pine scent hung thick and musky in the air. The wheels spoke _clunk-crunch_ as it went over the soft carpet tree roots, fallen leaves, rotting natural items, and boreal needles blown to the ground by the wind. Only a few snatches of sunlight peeked through overhead. The golden light warmed my back and made small pools of liquid, warm gold on the floor of the carriage, the spidery shade of the trees making patterns upon it. The horses whinnied. Birds chittered and flew about. We were enclosed in peaceful semidarkness.

It was here that I felt a strange mutualism about Yuzuki Yukari. The girl looked young, very young, perhaps not exceeding fourteen. Yet she must have come from a common family—higher classes do not make their heiresses maids. Just like any other maid or midwife, she would be a virgin forever, never marrying. And so devoted was she to this practice. Don't think I haven't seen her before. She was one of the laundresses before she came with us on the journey. I saw her, arms loaded full of dirty clothes, running outside to the back and washing the clothes in a crude bin, and I could hear snippets of her singing. She always sang while she worked. And now, why is she not singing?

Is she this afraid of me, that she is afraid to say anything other than the most needed?

The very thought displeases me.

* * *

**Ah.. I forgot to talk about the setting. I originally intended for it to be set in 1500s Europe, but after some thought, decided to make it an alternate dimension, since I hadn't done much research on 1500s Europe and therefore about 2% of the events in here are actually true to life at the time.  
As for religion and the frequent mention of hell _(i hope i didn't offend anybody. i'm sorry if i did)_... in the 1500s A.D., I believe Catholicism reigned and there was a good amount of Christianity. People were burnt at stakes, beheaded, or some other thing for, well, believing in what they believed. So you'd expect a girl of such high position to at least believe in something, although the religion isn't specific. In fact, I have no central religion for Luka. It [her religion] depends on what part of Europe she lived in at the time.. then again, I am not setting the story in Europe. I hope that made sense.  
**

**Also, with the seasons.. I kind of forget what season this story is set in as I get immersed in my writing, so that's why the seasons may not be very true at all. I edited it and it should be pretty close, though. Since I decided it to be AU, the seasons really vary... because that's what I do when I write...**

***Oh! And I cut off the chapter title with an ellipse because it couldn't fit. _Best way ever, FFn..._**

**Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter C:  
(_i know, i know, i was one day late at updating.. -_-)_  
**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	3. Three – My Tie To This Wretched Life

**Three – This Wretched Life that I Am Tied To**

Night fell, and we had ventured deep enough into the forest to be a fourth of the way in. It will take another day to arrive to the next land, but that part of the next land will be home to the peasants. The next land is huge—it will take us at least another day and night to journey across it to the part where the palace is. Then we have to go through the prodding gazes of the guards in front of the castle. It is very tiring.

We will sleep in our own carriages, and the coachmen shall sleep in the small coach that holds the other maids. The four men who look out for attackers will stay awake, watching in the night at various intervals.

I am not happy with this arrangement, but I have no other way if I want a comfortable place to sleep in. It has been decided—Yuzuki Yukari and I will sleep together, although not in the same place. She shall sleep in the back while I sleep near the front. One of the men will stay nearby on watch.

There are many things I can worry about. There are many things I _will_ worry about.

But right now, I would like to sleep. And sleep I shall.

_l~u~k~a_

A sudden snapping of branches jolted me awake. I sat up. The _coo-coo_ of an owl echoed through the night. Everything should be alright. Yet I felt that something was amiss. I crawled to my feet, and gazed out the window. All was silent, and in the quivering velvety silence, I felt a true seed of fear plant itself in me. There was no light; none, as it was a moonless, cloudy night, and there were no fireflies outside to illuminate the darkness either. I couldn't find a lamp and even if I did, I wouldn't know how to light it.

I thought about Yuzuki Yukari—maybe she was awake as well? Yet I couldn't hear anything, no sounds. My heart thrummed so hard in my chest; it hurt so painfully.

"Guards!" I called softly.

Another branch snapped. Some wild beast shuffled. Nobody answered my demand.

I could no longer persuade myself to think otherwise. There was definitely something wrong.

Hadn't the coachman told me that Father had made sure this be safe? Hadn't he assured me…? My blood chilled. Maybe he was lying; maybe this was Father's ploy to get rid of me. Surely they would both end in the hell because of that. Panic was beginning to rush forth in waves; I could not think. I eyed the window apprehensively, wondering if I would like the scene I would see if I poke my head out of it and take a look around. It is frightening, poorly robbing me of my courage—…

I am the daughter of a lord.

I am not afraid.

My knees shook. The forest air is cold in the night. It is not right for me to be awake at this chilly, hushed twilight hour.

I stood up with as little sound as possible. My nightgown was already drenched in sweat. _Pitiful_ thing, once Yuzuki Yukari wakes I will give her this nightgown that cannot withstand my ways. Yes—Yuzuki Yukari.

_I wonder if she is awake?_

Changing my direction, I crept toward the back. Each hand that I put forward, each knee that I scraped on the ground, each inch I covered with my crawling, I expected something unspeakably deathly to leap out and devour me whole. But there was nothing, and somehow that only made it more eerie. It was very hard to see, but I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye a leaf quiver and fall onto the ground.

Yuzuki Yukari was curled into a little ball at the back of the room. Her breathing was unnaturally quiet, and I am someone who has sensitive hearing.

I rose up onto my legs. I am not good at walking quietly, but I will simply have to try.

I pulled back a curtain from the window. I could see faint outlines of trees. The air was damp and metallic now, the unmistakable presence of bloodshed lingering nearby: the atmosphere and music of death. It is not just any death: yes, even death has ranks. It is _that_ death, branded forever by that curtain of black, that with a swift kiss would induce the victim to the hell. It is highly infamous, but I've never gotten close to this sort of environment before. In the palace, everything is safe and actual, the line clearly drawn between "right" and "wrong." But in the forest, everything is supernatural, and anything could happen. It matters not whether you are a commoner or a noble, a terrible murderer or an innocent soul.

_Who will die tonight?_

The masked question hung coldly in the air.

Then a hand reached up from the window.

_l~u~k~a_

I couldn't move. I was paralysed with shock and fear. As I watched, another hand surfaced, as if the owner of these hands was reaching up and trying to climb up the carriage's side.

I stumbled back awkwardly and blindly. There was no time to think, only act.

The person climbed nimbly into the carriage. His eyes were dark topaz. His hands were scarred, and one finger on his right hand was twisted askew. Behind him, two dark, muscular figures stirred. A cloud moved briefly to the side, and the outlines of their weapons shone in the starlight: the bow and arrows and swords.

"Having a fine time, Lady Luka?" the coachman of my carriage whispered, smiling easily.

My throat was dry. "What are you doing?" I asked hoarsely.

"Oh, no, don't scream. It just makes it much more complicated. We'll just take our loot and go. You see us three, and the other two guards are looking around in the other carriage and coach. Everybody's dead. Everybody, except you—and her." He thrust his chin at Yukari.

"N-no." I backed against a wall. "That's not true."

"You nobles, you are all so foolish, believing everybody can be trusted. My family was sabotaged by a noble once—and who do you think it was? Your father's brother. Your uncle."

"I don't have an uncle." My voice cracked.

"Oh, your father covered that up fine. He murdered any worker who dared to breathe a word about your uncle. Covering up the past, I'd like to say. Just not to give the family of Megurine a bad look. But after _you're_ gone, what will he rely on? You are just another pawn on the chessboard. I am just another pawn on the chessboard. But I am far more active than you, you who advance one square at a time. I take and destroy, wreaking havoc as I go. You are powerless to stop me." He laughed bitterly. "But as you are about to die, let me tell you something I wanted to tell you all along."

I tried to stand tall. I tried to keep my voice challenging. "And that will be…?"

His eyes gleamed maliciously, seemingly relishing this. "You…" The coachman stepped forward and caressed my lips. He gently drew a scratchy line from my cheekbone to my chin. "You are such a wonderful porcelain doll, so fragile and easy to break. Maybe…" I was too scared to say anything. "Maybe… I won't kill you after all. You would, being a virgin, make a wonderful sexual partner. But killing the girl, yes…" And done with the musing, he grinned. "Yes…

_I _

_hate_

_you._"

He spat the words at me, injected with the most bone-chilling way. My muscles relaxed for an irrational moment, but tensed again. I could not speak.

"Before this, however…" The coachman reached forward. His scarred hands felt scratchy on my skin. "This beautiful, soft skin of the daughter of a lord. I would like to tear it apart, thrash it into little pieces, until all that is left of it are numerous scars, crisscrossing each other… much like what your uncle did to my hands. Your high cheekbones, soft hair, all of this…" He was not himself anymore. He was not _human_ anymore. He was a beast, a demonic being who longed for the taste of human flesh. "All of this, _I want it!_ I _want_ it, so much…"

The figures behind him shifted uneasily. "Surely we will be caught if we linger so long," one of the men called, with a rough, hoarse voice.

"Oh, be quiet," said the coachman. "You are annoying me. Now, _you_, my darling Lady…"

His hands slid upward to my neck. "I am very sorry, but you will have to keep quiet…" A malicious grin spread across his face. "… and sleep for some time." His grip tightened.

I did the only thing that was natural for me to do at the moment.

I screamed.

_l~u~k~a_

The bandits. They have taken everything. Our supply of food, the horses, the carriages, the lives of the people with us, _everything_. Except for the wheel-tracks, nobody would know what happened to anything else. The coachman had promised me that they will not.

After a moment's hesitation, they had decided to bring Yuzuki Yukari—who was still asleep—with us. The coachman strapped me to the fastest steed in the group, which he was also riding. I sat right behind him, and he was the one who had the saddle. I had to hang on by putting my arms around him, or be thrown off and trampled by the horses. I chose the former, although it destroyed my dignity to do so.

If I could, I would have fought. I would have employed, again and again, any and every part of my body that knew how to claw or hit or kick or insult or inflict pain in some other way. But I could have only done that while fighting one person. But there were five. I was greatly outnumbered.

I sat tied to a tree now. They had not bothered to tie me up properly and did a sloppy job of it. Yuzuki Yukari had been shocked awake, but before she could protest, her mouth was stuffed with rags and she was tied, too, to the tree. I could not explain. Not right now.

The coachman was eating now, tearing open the packages we had. There were seasoned herbs, salted meat, cheeses, bread, and a little bit of wine. That was for me. The other packages contained less-flavourful food, for the people lower than me. The men began to feast. They didn't even bother to recook the meat, which must be bacteria-infested by now. After many long minutes of watching them relishing the food, I began to feel hungry, too.

I am the daughter of a lord.

I am made to be served.

I am sculpted of the finest material.

And yet I am more worthless than a fly in this atmosphere.

How could this be?

The coachman saw me. He grinned, his eyes lighting up with a manic fire, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Then he stood up and walked over to me, towering over me before bending down and using his large rough hands to feel my skin, the third time this night. His breath smelled of onions and garlic, and rancid meat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yukari's eyes widen in disbelief, the shock that took her, this scandalous action.

I cannot stir.

_I will not stir._

I will not give him the pleasure of seeing my fear.

_l~u~k~a_

This dangerous man has not done anything truly horrifying yet. But how can I be sure?

_l~u~k~a_

It was almost dawn. I looked up, but I could not see any hints of dawn in the sky. It was dark and imposing as ever. The men had fallen asleep, and their rattly breathing wasn't helping much. Yukari had spit the rags out, but she only said she was devising a plan. I don't know Yuzuki Yukari much, so I don't know how her plans would work. Besides, she was sleeping, too. I was, it seemed, the only one who wasn't captivated in the sleep trance.

In the utter stillness and tranquility of times, one's mind would begin to imagine and see things that aren't really there. I once heard of it as insanity, the substance that caused people's minds to unwind in the hell. But there was nothing else to occupy my time with; even the time in the carriage was better than this. In this boredom, I began to wonder.

I never pondered much on the subject of love. I viewed it as a weakening to the mind.

Wouldn't it be nice, though, to feel, for only a moment perhaps, to feel what it is to love?

I have lost track of time. I don't know what hour it is, whether it's time in the normal schedule to eat or not. It seems that ever since I got here, I am hungry.

"Yuzuki Yukari," I whispered. In the dim light that was now spreading across the horizon, I could just see the white outline against her shadowed face. In just a few moments the men would be waking up and finding out that Yuzuki Yukari didn't have all of her bonds anymore… and what then? What would they do to her?

"I've got it, my Lady." Her eyelashes fluttered and they opened. She stared off into the distance. "These ropes are loosely tied; I can wriggle out of them fairly easily and untie you. We can raid some of their food and get some clothes, but that's it. I'm not good with horses, and I doubt you are either—with all due respect, my Lady. We'll have to make it through the forest alone."

"Alone?" A spark of fear ignited in my stomach. "How? These are dangerous men, and they could harm us in any way…"

"Lady Luka," Yuzuki Yukari said softly, "it's our only chance." Her bindings fell onto the ground beside her. "Heavens forgive me, but if you refuse, I shall do this for you."

_l~u~k~a_

We are free!

We had some food, some water, and we didn't know our way, but at least we were out of the grasp of the horrible men. I didn't know how they reacted when they woke up and saw that we weren't there, but all I could hope is that they won't even try to follow. It would be better of them to think us dead than we get into their clutches again, because if that happens, we'll _be_ dead.

Yuzuki Yukari ran swiftly, like a fox chasing a rabbit. I had a hard time keeping up, for I was not suited for this exercise. Once in a while, she would stop and I would catch up, always panting, never once as sleek and happy as she.

"Our water is running low," she said in the late afternoon.

"We only got the water today," I reminded her. "How could it run low?"

"Yes, but you and I consume much amounts of it. We need it because we are running." She shook the jug, and I could hear faint, soft sloshings. "That's all there is for the water, and it is much emptier than it was when we first started."

Water was the source of life. It flowed and murmured and destroyed, but it was mandatory and a precious jewel amidst itself. Whenever I needed it, it was always there. I grew up with a plentiful supply of this. It could not—_I will not believe_—that there could be almost no water left. No, that is not possible.

"Look inside," I insisted.

"I already did, my Lady." Yukari frowned. "Allow me to remember where to find water. Since the tree growth is a little stunted here, I would suppose that water is not here. Come on." She lead us on, and a few hours passed tromping around in the undergrowth. The pine needle scent was becoming to be a little irritating. Still, I knew better than to whine, not in a situation like this.

Suddenly Yuzuki Yukari climbed boldly through a thick tree root on the ground and heavy conifer tree boughs above, heedless of her ripped, torn, dirty dress. Parting the bushy needles, she gave an exclamation of delight.

"My Lady, please come! I have found water!"

There was only a few more drops of water in the jug. I knew this now, because I had opened it once to drink, and I tilted it and drank again. _I have found water._ Those beautiful words echoed in my head. I followed Yukari, and my breath caught in my throat when I saw a beautiful bubbling brook, gushing over the huge boulders and rocks that lay on the streambed as if they were naught but pebbles, twisting itself into various shapes and adventuring ahead. Squirrels chattered above and pecked the nuts and the first time that day I did not feel as if I was going crazy by their quick talk. Birds swooped and flew. But it was the brook that I looked at for so long.

Yukari is a genius.

I handed her the jug and she bent over to fill it with the clean brook water. When she put the stone cap back on and shook it, I could hear no empty spaces in the water. She smiled and drank a few sips.

"It's sweet," Yukari said. "And cold. Would you like some, my Lady?"

I declined. I was surprised at myself for doing such a thing, for I almost never did this, but since Yukari had saved both of us, I felt _generous_. I am the daughter of a lord, but surely that does not mean I must be stingy all the time.

The setting sun's gold poured through the cracks in the trees. We had gone a long way. I wasn't afraid of losing our way now; if we could sight the stars, surely they would guide us. The sky began to turn brilliant colours, the shades and hues I had never before thought of. Just looking up I could feel the beauty in it snaking its way in me, warming me up. The trees' needle leaves trembled and quivered. For only a moment, I felt at peace with the nature's source.

I could finally understand poetry and why the sunset was such a majestic, nostalgic subject. I knew now.

I reached up toward the sky, but of course I could not catch a ray of sunshine to do with. It felt nice, anyway, and I was contented with doing this as the least. Yuzuki Yukari began making a bed in which we could sleep in.

Shivers of pleasure ran down my back. Surely, if I could, I would never leave this place. I did not want to return to my duties, the old duties carved down in stone in the first and oldest laws, that began the world, that had grown stale over time. To live in harmony with nature and sustain a living, just the same, would be enough to make me happy.

Certainly, I have changed a lot since I first began the journey.

* * *

**I sat in front of this window for a quarter-hour, and still haven't thought of what to say..  
But maybe there isn't any xD**

**Hmm... I consider this one of my better chapters~ (; And yes, it's better because it's long... XDDD My chapters seem to be escalating in length, don't they? They'll [the length] probably drop soon though ;w; I keep having to collapse/paraphrase my chapter titles... ugh..  
**

**Thank you for reading/reviewing as always~ (;  
**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	4. Four – Please, Don't Leave Just Yet

_*****3/29/2013: Whaaat. Why did this chapter not show when I visited my link. Keeping fingers crossed, it will this time due to my wonderful reuploading.  
**Happy early 20th birthday 96neko**  
_

**Four – Please, Don't Leave Just Yet**

Yuzuki Yukari was sick.

Something in the water had made her sick. She coughed now, her lips dry, curled up in a ball. She didn't allow me near, and in her feverish state she mumbled some incoherent words that I couldn't make heads or tails of. I bled her—or tried to, for I did not want to hurt her—but the measly things I did made no difference.

I did wish I could do something for her. She brought me this far. Yet I was no doctor, and there were no people for miles around—except for the men, whom I desperately wanted to forget. Was this a curse? Was this made on purpose, so that she would be sick and we would both die? I could not answer my own questions.

The noon's cruel sun warmed my back, but inside I could not be warmed. No matter how many times I turned toward the sun, seeking for guidance, it sorely disappointed me by not suppressing the icy chill that had been growing in my chest, but furthering it. I could hardly breathe—it felt like a knife of ice had been lodged deep in my chest, the wound throbbing raw.

I was thirsty, but I dared not to inhale even a little bit of the water in the brook or the water in the canteen. Something had infected it.

I had moved both of us to a place far from the brook. Yukari's lips were chapped, but I could not feed her any more of the water. I knew she was terribly dehydrated, but that was it. Her skin was sallow, her eyes sunken, and she was incredibly irritable, although it was obvious she tried to not show it in front of me. And she was always sleepy, and when she fell into such lethargy, suddenly she would snap awake and sleep again, into a fitful, restless trance. What a difference from the lively girl just a night before.

"Live, Yukari," I whispered. "Live."

_l~u~k~a_

In the middle of a rattling breath, Yukari suddenly quieted, and her eyes closed, sinking into a more peaceful slumber.

A sigh of relief melted into me, but as I relaxed, something still prodded me to go check… check what, I was not sure, but at least do something.

I laid a hand on her clammy forehead. She did not budge. Was that a good thing? I sat there, pondering it, when suddenly an awful thought occurred to me. For a terrible moment, all was quiet. Then a bird's meek chirp sent waves of sound vibrating in the air, and I suddenly understood.

"No!" I screamed, falling to my knees, clawing at the air. "_No!"_

For that rattling breath was her last.

_l~u~k~a_

I stood at the edge of the brook. It was windy tonight, and the evening chill had descended yet again, transforming this mythical land into a quivering, breathy torpor. I was cold and hungry; there was hardly any food. Still I stood there, shivering, my ragged clothes on the ground beside me. I was stark naked. I was revealing my body to all the gods, good or bad. This was an act of submission, and I willed those heavenly beings to take pity on me and tell me where to go. I did not want to go to the village. I had to, but I did not want to go.

I spread my arms wide, enveloping and embracing the rush of wind that flew past. I wanted to shiver and shrink; I wanted to be a little child again, with the fabric of naivety and innocence falling over me. Surely then the gods would take more pity in me. But that was long gone now, in the cloth woven by the past. All I had at hand that was within reach was my bruised nobility, sinned against again and again, and my limited patience. Patience was all I could hold in calling the gods' interest.

I am the daughter of a lord.

(Or, more correctly, _was_)

Father must have disowned me by now; we should have been to the new land already. If a week passes by with no word, he would probably just assume my life taken into the hands of Death.

But I still had some snatches of authority left. Surely, with the passing of a new friend, the world would stop a moment to mourn with me, I had thought prior to this.

It did not. Time only kept ticking by.

I laughed harshly. How could I have been so stupid? There is no pity in life once I move past the shelter of fine material things.

Suddenly a teal glow invaded my thoughts, startling me to the core.

_It must have been a trick of the eye._

But the glow was expanding, drawing my attention to it. My breath caught in my thought, and my lungs swelled up so much I thought they were going to burst.

A girl—no, it was a woman. A woman of seventeen or eighteen stood in the clearing, just between two trees, across from the brook. How could I describe the emotions that ran through my head when I saw her? She was beautiful. Her hair was teal green, rippling down her back, the same green as the glow that now enveloped her. A crown of what must have been pink rose petals threaded together rested on the top of her head, and thin, tender green vines with blooming honeysuckle were twisted and threaded in her hair. Her finely scalloped dress, white and creamy, swept the ground lightly. Flat tree boughs that were a beautiful gold served as a belt. Rose petals littered the ground where she stood. Gossamer wings glittered on her back, so surreal that I wasn't sure if it was just a part of my imagination or actually there. They seemed to be playing tricks on my eyes already, shining silvery white as sunlight rebounded off of them, and then fading into the background the next.

_Forest faerie,_ her appearance breathed to me.

But it wasn't just the beauty of the mythical being that captivated me. It was something more, something deep down. Was it that loving image in her cyan eyes, flecked with amber, that made me want her to hold me close? That wanness in those told me her heart had already been crushed, more than once, and she was hesitant on healing.

"Come."

I blinked. Had the faerie spoken?

The faerie smiled warmly, and her image flickered. "Come."

And disappeared as soon as I had seen her.

_l~u~k~a_

"_Wait!"_ I screamed, quickly gathering up my clothes. "Wait! C-come back!"

She came again, flickering back into life. The forest faerie glanced for a moment at my clothes in a rather disapproving fashion, and then shook her head. "You need not your clothes."

I gaped at her. "Come naked?"

"What did you think I suggested?"

Oh my, this faerie was sharp-tongued.

I dropped my clothes. It still felt odd to me, the regions that defined me as female, bare. I gazed down at the rushing river in front of me. No, I could not cross that infected river. I may fall sick and die, too.

"Come on," the faerie said, more kindly this time. "What's keeping you?"

I whimpered and drew back. The woman raised her eyebrows.

"The bad water."

"Oh, was that what you were afraid of?" she said. "Don't worry, if it harms you, I can take its spell away from you."

I still stayed on the other side. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't. I was utterly afraid of water in its raw form, rushing and roughhousing.

I have had fear of water at a young age. When it comes in a cup, I don't mind, but when it's a river or a pool, or something big that may require me to swim, my legs turn to jelly, my knees knock against each other, and I tremble and try to hide.

And then I was angry at myself. I was incapable. Utterly pathetic. If Yuzuki Yukari could do this, why couldn't I?

I forced my legs to move. One, two strides to get to the rushing water. It was foaming as it flowed by, enough to knock my body down, but slow enough that various animals could live in it.

In just a moment I was in it.

Fear rushed through my body, and I kicked and struggled against the grip of water. I was losing control of my legs, and for a pitiful moment, I pictured the bad water seeping through my skin, into myself, destroying me. Self-pity washed over me and I curled up into a ball, ready to sink to my death, when I was suddenly engulfed by a huge wave.

How panicked was I truly? The water stung my eyes, and I could hardly see anything but cruel white bubbles, but I forced my eyes to stay wide open—for nothing in particular, just the comfort of sight. My lungs burned already from lack of air. The sole of my foot brushed the silty riverbed, and the small rocks which were dropped daily onto it now drew their sharp edges across my skin. My hair whipped around me, each strand surprisingly defined in the gray moonlight. A thought seeped into my almost-delirious mind—why exactly was my hair the way it was? It was beautiful. Beautiful as the sky. The sky was beautiful. I—

I found myself reaching out, touching what may or may not have been my hair, when something clasped my wrist.

I gulped a mouthful of water. In a flash, I was gasping and coughing, on land.

Naked.

Shivering.

_Cold._

And facing the forest faerie.

"I don't want to do that again," I moaned hoarsely, when what I wanted to say but couldn't was that she was extremely disrespectful for a lord's former daughter to encourage her to dip in the river like that.

"I know you don't," she said soothingly. "Come. Get up. We'll get you something to eat."

I staggered onto my feet. "Do you have something for me to call you? A name?"

She stopped short, staring back at me. "A name?"

"Yes. You… you _do_ have one, don't you?" Her attitude was starting to scare me.

"It is the ritual for me to tell you my name afterward, Luka," the faerie said. She smiled reassuringly. "Let's go."

_Ritual?_

Trying not to wonder, I limped through the forest with her. Slants of moonlight poked through the cracks of leaves through the trees, setting shadows everywhere. Moss muffled my footsteps, unlike the part of the forest where Yuzuki Yukari and I passed through—where each footstep brought down a heavy _cruunnnccchhh_. Now that I looked, moss was everywhere: draped over branches, hanging between trees, carpeting the ground. A hollow log had fallen across the brook in which I had (somewhat) crossed, and it, too, was gray-green with moss and yellow with lichens, shimmering in the dim light. The heavy aromatic feeling was only interrupted once or twice by an accidental crunch or snap.

The faerie, I had to notice, made no sound at all as she walked across the floor. Maybe it was just because she was not human, but I suspected it was something else. Her wings fluttered behind her as she went along, but they weren't taking her into flight. The midwife had once told me that faeries, no matter how we portray them, can never fly. It was the new scientific way: their wings aren't built for flying. I remember I asked her why they were there if they didn't use them for flight, to which she had no answer.

Then, she mentioned something about reincarnating into a faerie, and I stopped listening after that.

I stopped when this faerie stopped; she stopped when I stopped. And so it was rare that we ever stopped.

_l~u~k~a_

I lost track of the length of time, but it was something around midnight when we reached a clearing in the heart of the forest. A mossy carpet soothed the ripped skin on my feet. Dark ochre trees wove a fine tapestry of branches and leaves above our heads. A huge, thick trunk was the first thing I saw, along with several gray runes exquisitely carved of stone hovering on various shelves that seemed to grow into the knotted tree trunk, glowing strange blue and purple lights. From the trunk, branches—twisted back and forth in the most peculiar of ways—extended in all directions, so interwoven with the branches of other trees that it'd be impossible to untangle them and tell which is which. Toadstools managed to grow here and there, bathed in the soft, eerie light that was the same shade of the light that hovered around the runes.

In the middle was a fire ring, or what seemed like one. There was a wreath of woven branches and wildflowers, a few feet off the ground—it must have served as a bench.

"I don't understand," I whispered. "Where are the other faeries?"

"They know that we're here. They're somewhere else—as usual. In the heart of the Mother Tree." The faerie gestured toward the ancient tree. Huge thornbushes, ripe with poisonous red berries and sharp-toothed leaves, sat scattered thickly around its knobbly base.

I decided not to question how they got in.

"It does pretty well," I commented.

"It does, doesn't it?" She beamed proudly. "This faerie colony is one of the oldest in history… and among the few that still thrive in forests. Others now live in moors, on mountaintops, or concealed in villages…" The tips of her gently pointed ears turned pink. "Oh dear, I'm saying too much, aren't I?"

"Wait. I thought faeries were supposed to be… well, smaller than the average human being."

"That's what they make you think, isn't it? No indeed. Well, space is kind of warped around us magical beings, so we really can't be sure about it. Now, on with us."

"I thought trolls and elves also live in the forest."

"So they did."

"Do they not war with you from time to time?"

"What—?" She looked at me for a second, before scoffing, "Oh, humanic beliefs, aren't they? No. And we're actually one of the faerie colonies that are closer to what humans depict of us. Trolls are our friends. And faeries mate elves to have dwarf faeries, although we don't normally do that. Some faeries come from the center of death and despair, but most faeries are birthed naturally—by a natural occurrence of something special. In a good way. For us. That usually applies to humans' actions."

The faerie was talking so fast I was having trouble following her.

"Faeries also can be rebirthed into an animal if they want. Like humans." She thought for a moment. "Elves are like male faeries. The difference is that they're more hoppy, they wear different clothes that are less airy, and their pointed ears are more severely pointed, and longer."

"But what about changelings and—"

"You don't see much people around here, do you? As in humans?"

"No," I admitted meekly.

"We don't have changeling material, either. Most of those who do the changeling switches are, surprisingly, moor faeries. Not the ones who live in the villages. But then, those who live in the villages are generally spread out and have a terrible fate, usually lured there by love for a human man…" Then the faerie flexed her wings and glared at me. "You're making me reveal too much again. Come on. Let's go."

"How—"

But before the question left my mouth, I found myself staring at her up on the tree. She had shimmied up so quickly that I didn't realize she was there until she grinned cockily at me. Then she reached out and pressed the runes in order, muttering incantations all the while.

The thorny bushes, not without a huge racket, retreated. I could see a hole for the opening now. There seemed to be a wall—or the innards of the tree—right behind the entrance. It was lit with a gentle, warm golden glow.

"Well, aren't you coming?" She went first, flitting through the opening. She looked at me expectantly.

I decided not to wonder how she managed to fit in a hole such as that, but I was certainly sure I couldn't. And I couldn't. When I stuck in my feet, my leg took up the entire space.

"Headfirst," she instructed.

Meekly, I obeyed her, and to my surprise, I tumbled through the opening and made an awkward landing on the ground—if Father saw me doing that, he would surely reprimand me for my clumsiness. I didn't know why, but I was beginning to like this faerie. I brushed a chunk of vibrant pink hair out of my face, and as I was looking down, I realized I was staring down a large, dimly lit tunnel that proceeded down in a spiral staircase.

And then, as I looked around, we were in a tiny room. The thorn bushes had moved to their place in front of the Mother Tree again.

"Down the staircase."

I did as she ordered. Now you remember, I was naked the time, and as I went lower, goosebumps began to prickle on my flesh. The roof became slanted, and the smell became overpowering: musky and dark. The lights slowly vanished, one by one, until we were walking in complete darkness. Suffocating darkness. The staircase never seemed to end.

A blast of light startled my eyes and I tripped.

An involuntary scream left my mouth as I groped unsteadily for something to hold on. I caught the handle something cool, and the scent of summer, crushed lavenders for making perfumes, floated to me. I inhaled, feeling the—

"Keep going!" the faerie whispered fiercely.

I snapped out of my reverie. The light had disappeared, but I could see now. In my hands was an urn.

"Drop that!" She seemed panicked. "I should have known Tone Rion would do something like this—but I'll get her back soon."

"Why?" I liked the urn. It was beautiful, too, a nice shape, with lovely designs painted on it. That smell spoke of summers lost as a child. And I was five again, naive, going through the world, looking at the workers who slaved over my perfume…

"It's the Jar of Fear, Luka," she sighed.

"How… do you know my name?"

"I do because all faeries have a premonition of what they must do. Don't mind me. It's too confusing to explain. But the Jar of Fear… it's to lure you into the depths of something close to hatred and Hell. It does this by tempting you. I don't know what you smelled from it, but it's something that you remember, something that is close to your soul. In some ways it's like your identity. I never told anyone of what I smelled from it.

"But, Luka, put it down. _Now._ It'll fall to splinters as soon as you drop it. The spirit encased inside will find a new host, and that host will find its way back to Tone Rion because she knows how to get her hands on such things like this, but please, leave it."

As I obeyed, there was a tremendous, ugly crashing sound.

"The Jar of Fear is shattered." The faerie smiled. "Come on, we still have a long way to go."

_l~u~k~a_

"That was easy," I said in surprise.

"We were traveling in the roots of the Mother Tree," explained the faerie.

"… _What._"

"The Mother Trees warps and contorts space like us magical beings."

_l~u~k~a_

I found myself in a huge room of faeries making merry.

Someone who must have been the leader of some kind suddenly waved her hand over the crowd to be quiet. They immediately hushed. The faerie who led me here squeezed my hand gently, whispering, "Queen Elf Suzune. Queen Elf is the highest position in the social pyramid of the faeries."

Queen Suzune had the typical pointy ears of a faerie. Her long, ice-blue hair rippled down her back, and her silky bangs framed her face. She wore something like white rose petals for a collar and what appeared to be the jagged rose leaves to cover her chest. As for a skirt, there was an undersized lavender lily, turned upside-down into a bell shape.

I was _still_ pitifully naked, and felt out of place among these finely-dressed… whatever they were.

"Hello, Luka," she said, smiling. "I see that Miku has brought you here safely."

"I want to be clothed," I whimpered. I was shocked at my own words. Why did I say this in front of royalty? I knew that if a mere stranger came into _my_ quarters, and addressed me in such a formal manner, with a _command_, no less, I would have ordered servants to take him to the gallows and beat him with whips. And why was it that I was thinking of this in the first place? I was ruthless, I was cold, I was…

But Queen Suzune only smiled amiably and nodded. "Your clothes would arrive shortly."

"_Shortly?_"

The faerie, who was apparently Miku, gave me a warning glance.

"It's alright, Miku," Queen Suzune soothed her. "Luka is used to being served."

_How does she know all this about me?_ In addition to that, I was slightly upset at her talking about me like she would about a small child. _Of course_ I was used to being served. I was the daughter of a lord. What else did she expect? Fuming, I rummaged through my thoughts for something to say as a some hundred eyes of faeries kept fixed on me.

"Now, Luka," Queen Suzune continued, in her gentle voice, "in the few days you'll be here, you will be expected to act as a faerie. Miku will guide you. You will learn a lot of the names of the faeries who reside here."

"Why am I here anyway?"

Miku elbowed me, but Queen Suzune only patted my shoulder tolerantly. "As I'm fairly sure that Miku told you earlier, every faerie is born with a destiny in mind."

"So Miku just woke up one day and said, 'I should take Luka to you'?"

"Pretty much that," Queen Suzune agreed, much to my surprise. "In fact, when that thought came to her mind, she looked through your files. You know, what you did, your history, things like that. And then, it was only the simple matter of pinpointing where you were. Luckily, you were traveling through our forest, and as you needed help, Miku was able to reach you fairly quickly. I take it that you had a maid with you, Yuzuki Yukari, except she died of cholera?"

"Cholera?" I was too starstruck to say anything else.

"A waterborne disease," she said patiently. "It's going to take humans a few more centuries before they discover everything about it." She laughed, not unkindly. "Now, after you've gotten a bit food and hospitality, we'll be sending you to where you need to go as your father's ambassador."

I blinked. Father's ambassador? "He probably thinks I'm dead," I put it bluntly.

"Oh, no. He doesn't. It _does_ take a long way to get to your destination, and word has not reached him yet—it's impossible. But between our powers, I think we can get you there in a few minutes. You must settle down first, though." Her aquamarine eyes glowed a pale liquid gold and her pupils became sharp vertical slits. "Now get some sleep," Queen Ring Suzune whispered, touching my forehead.

* * *

**As usual, to make a story a story, I have to kill off someone. I'm also a little surprised that this chapter exceeded 4,000 words- which is to say, long stretches of it may need cutting. Then again, I zoned out while writing it, and a few parts of it (that were supposed to be in the fifth chapter) ended up in the fourth chapter instead.  
**

**I was also reading reviews for _Twilight_ on Goodreads and got a bit brainwashed while reading them, so some elements of the chapter might seem... askew.**

**Thanks for reading/reviewing~ (;**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	5. Five – My Heart Scoured by Innocence

**《_NOTE_**: _Slight shoujo-ai, but no yuri._**》**

**Five – The Innocence Which Scours My Heart**

I woke up with the nose-tickling scent of an oil lamp fluttering feebly in the air. The said article glowed dimly on the floor, as if abandoned. A chill of suspicion ran through my spine, and I wondered what exactly has happened to me, where exactly I am.

Sitting up, a blanket slipped off my thighs—one made of what seemed like a spider web's unsticky gossamer threads so tightly woven together that it made a sheet not unlike that of silk. I was sleeping on a hard straw mat, with something that looked like a rose petal (it was humongous if it was one) for a pillow.

The scene was painted with rich, deep browns and blacks. My eyes slowly grew accustomed to the light, and I saw the outline of a tapestry hanging on a branch.

_A branch…_

For a moment, I thought I had just died and became a ghost, but as I sat there listening to the steady sound of my breath, I realized that that wasn't so. Beside me was another being. I took a more careful inventory of the room.

There wasn't much in it. A warped, irregularly-shaped wall supposed the tapestry. There was just enough room in front of me that I could stretch out in my bed, and half of me could fit in the space between before I hit the wall. Overhead, a material that looked like the thread that made my blanket hung in thick, silvery sheets, some threads dangling down, swaying in what I assumed was a self-created wind—my only fear was that it would become alive at any second. One would expect a window in anybody's sleeping quarters, but there weren't any. In the far right of the room, where the ceiling slanted down and the wall curved outward, was something that looked like a rabbit hole—that is, big enough for me to crawl through.

Immediately, I recalled what had happened yesterday. Those golden eyes, and— I looked around more desperately. Where—did—was I just kidnapped, what the coachman did to me?

I glanced around, seeking an answer, when my eyes fell upon the figure next to me.

Wispy tendrils of teal hair curled and fell down her shoulders, down her back, reaching to her ankles. Her wings were folded comfortably to her back, fluttering and rising and sighing along with her chest, and she wore something similar to a nightdress. Come to think of it, I was clothed too—_finally_.

I knew I saw the girl before. She… The name eluded me for a moment, but then I remembered—Miku. Her name was Miku.

I kept staring at her for the longest time, for there was an aura that I couldn't describe which hovered mysteriously around her, drawing me to it like a moth to light. As my gaze traveled down her body and snapped back up to her face, I suddenly began noticing things—things perhaps I shouldn't have?

Something washed over me then, a tugging I was not able to recognize and yet was familiar beyond belief. It really couldn't be described as a bad feeling, though I fought it for control of my body. For when the grasp descended on me, I had a sudden urge to reach out and—…

_Ignore it._

From a young age, both Father and the midwife and pretty much everybody else had beaten into my head that it was a deadly sin to love one of the same sex. I never knew why, but I didn't ask them to expand on the subject, fearful of what they might do and what the kingdom might think of me if this news leaked out. I always thought that if it was love, there was no problem in showing it, as long as, of course, the couple kept demure about it. I could feel the almost-telepathical love between two people who truly fell in love, and there was something in the way they gazed at each other… and they showed it in a peaceful way. I never did understand why Father, the midwife, and other people I've met thought that being attracted to another girl would bring lightning crashing down on earth. In fact, the only explanation they ever provided for me was that it just wasn't right. The subject was first brought up when I told the midwife that a girl—a brunette with fiery red eyes, porcelain skin, and deep cherry red lips, possibly a gypsy—that I had seen on the streets was very attractive. That was when the midwife looked worried. At first I thought it was because of the gypsy appearance; but then, after overhearing several quietly-spoken conversations between she and Father over many days, I realized that there was something else, something other than feeling a tugging to someone of a lower class than me. They both gave me huge lectures on men and courtship and the idea of marriage.

"The idea of getting into bed with a man," Father had once declared, "is to reproduce. Solely."

So the way my mind worked, deemed "strange" and "possibly evil" by a lot of priests, became taboo, and I never spoke of the people who made my heart race again. I knew I had very little interest in males. Father noticed this, too. But that didn't stop him from making me meet various males of the sort.

But now, in this room…

There was nobody, nobody to tell me what to do, what was right, and what was wrong. I could tell Miku about it. She seemed like someone I could trust.

Yet, the way my feelings were going, tumbling over each other in their excitement, I wasn't sure how long it was before I started to tell Miku other things, things that I felt closer to my heart. I was afraid of that. Miku was a faerie, I was a human, and I knew that faeries and humans did not have the same feelings. They had different ones, and they couldn't understand the feelings we had. But still, Miku was a female, and—

_I should be going to sleep,_ I grumbled to myself. Still, in this dark rabbit-hole which probably was the sleeping quarters of a faerie, I had no idea what position the moon was in the sky, and the restless shadows that quivered on the insides of the Mother Tree (most trees I'd seen were filled out from in to out, so I didn't know how the Mother Tree kept living like that being hollowed out) made everything frightening and simply furthered my lack of sleep.

_l~u~k~a_

I don't know how or when I slept, but I knew that somehow I was in my bed again.

I blinked, trying to sort out the objects looming in my blurry vision. Everything was fine, coarse, and grainy at the same time. I could just find the outline of the tapestry when a sharp blast of something so intensely gold, that it almost was silver obscured my eyesight.

"That _hurt_!"

Something quickly snapped back, and the gold faded away, flickering and dying away like the last embers of a fire. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust (again) to the sudden darkness. When I finally managed to focus on something that looked clear, I realized I was looking into cyan eyes—such a lovely bluegreen that they could have been the sea… in the portraits that I've seen.

My eyes traveled across her face, trying to remember the features that seemed to be easily floating into my head just a few hours before.

"Luka? Hello? Hello?"

Oh. Miku.

"Good, you're paying attention. It's time to wake up," Miku said. She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I shone that light into your eyes. It's nearly always dark down here, and I was trying to see whether you were awake and ignoring me or just asleep."

Somehow I didn't think it was just that. But I nodded and stumbled with her into the long, winding corridors of this place.

"You see," Miku explained, "since you're not staying for long, I'll provide you with some of my clothes—if they don't fit, we can enchant them to make them fit. We're going to bathe."

"_Bathe_?" I was astonished. "Where?"

"Why of course in the Mother Tree—well, pretty much, anyway. You wouldn't think it was anywhere else, would you?" As Miku spoke, we neared the end of the corridor. Two hallways branched off to the side, but Miku came forward and kept walking. I grabbed her arm.

"_Yessssss_?" she questioned.

"You were going to crash into the wall."

"Oh," smiling tolerantly; "no, that was my purpose. Now come on."

Thoroughly bewildered, I followed her, wondering if this really was a trap. _I shouldn't have followed her through the forest that day—_ and whyever not? Just as I was rummaging through the depths of my brain, trying desperately to grasp a legitimate way of escaping, Miku stepped to the wall, and hit her—

_No._

Traveling through walls—at least that's what I think it is; I'm not sure about anything here anymore—is a peculiar feeling. One's soul seems to feel like it's separating from one's body. There's something about walking on air, although I've never walked on air before; and then I feel dizzy, and there is a steep drop—…

"You traveled through your first portal," Miku said, smiling down at me.

I only stared at her. After a few moments of silence, I blurted out, "You said it was a wall."

"Well, yes. It is a wall in some way. There's just more to it than meets the eye."

"You are making my head hurt," I snapped.

Miku shrugged. "It'll go away. Now, let's get a bath. I didn't get any for a while now… I think a few weeks or so? Anyway, come on."

It was then that I finally paid attention to the scene spread before me. It was not like any other I'd seen—a huge, dimly lit building, smelling rather pleasantly of the oily paint that they used for portraits. The tiles, even in the glinting, molten-gold light issued by lamps and candles, shone a pearly alabaster white. The water was poured into a huge depression—a pool—on the floor of the room, glistening welcomingly. In fact—how long was it that _I_ had a bath? No more than ten days, I was sure. But this…

"Where is this, exactly?" I asked. "It is still in the Mother Tree?"

"Yes and no. We need some privacy." Miku grabbed my elbow and led my to a dim spot, far away from any of the lights. "We're in another country," she said, sinking her voice to a hushed whisper. "Somewhere in the past, quite some time ago. This is the queen's bathing chambers. I know not because I've been here before, but because of the faerie instinct. That portal, the one we used to travel through, in the Mother Tree, is fickle. You never know when or where you'd end up. Now we have to hurry, because the queen is rising out of her bed, and there are some horrible tales about what they do to intruders."

Before I could even protest, Miku was touching me, gently easing away my clothing. I stood there, pinned to the ground, my mind blanking out. I didn't have enough time to react; for, when I finally recovered from the shock, I was underwater again.

My eyes burned. My throat burned. I frantically moved my hands back and forth, waving my limbs, sending bubbles and waves of water crashing everywhere, until I popped up, shaking with coughs.

"Don't do that again," I said angrily, the leftover snatches of my former position coming back to me.

Miku daintily sunk underneath the water. Ripples spread beautifully across the dark, cool surface. I was getting chills and goosebumps from the cold water—the water I bathed in was _always_ heated—although Miku didn't seem to mind.

_l~u~k~a_

"Here," Miku said, once we were back into the Mother Tree again. "Try this on. I know you can see that it was originally a nightgown"—here she screwed up her face, looking at it—"but you'll have to wear it for a day or two. I'll give you better clothes later. And I can also sew back the bottom part later," for she had apparently trimmed off quite some lengths of the material used to made the nightgown.

I bit my tongue, glad that something was covering my body at last. The material was scratchy and not at all comfortable. It hardly made me look better than a misfit peasant, though I wisely chose not to complain.

"Actually," Miku said, "I think you'd do better with human clothes once you come out of the Mother Tree. After all, faerie clothes on a mortal do not last." She must have seen the confusion on my face, for she hastily explained, "They disappear—vanish forever—within… about thirty seconds of you leaving the Mother Tree. Now I have to get some clothes for you. Do you know how to sew?"

If Queen Suzune was telling the truth and Miku _did_ know quite some about me, then how could she miss the most obvious fact of all— that I was a lord's daughter?

_I still do not mend or sew._

Self-righteously, I straightened myself up. "No," I snapped.

Miku looked as if someone had just woken her up with a hammer. "Oh— right. Sorry. You might want to sew, though."

_l~u~k~a_

Miku had a style of crafting her knowledge into words, moulding it into a fine ball, and throwing the balls in my face. That made her a fairly good teacher—better than the midwife or Yuzuki Yukari. By the end of the day, I had almost everything that I considered "odd" explained thoroughly to me by Miku. I floated unfeelingly through the day, hardly adjusting to the novelty of treated as an equal—although I'd had a good mouthful of it out in the open forest.

Still, as I tried to sleep (a lady was expected to sleep quickly), an unnerving fact kept coming back at me: I hardly knew about Miku herself.

It made me slightly uncomfortable. I was used to people revealing their full selves to me. I'd gotten used to Father, of course; but I'd lived long enough with him to know his everyday habits, what he did, his tempers, how he slowly destroyed himself inside little by little, day by day, by drinking water laced with poison, believing it would make him build up an immunity against the actual poison. I had a fair shot at what Miku was, but one could never tell by the mask one held in front of oneself…

"Why aren't you sleeping, Luka?" murmured Miku from beside me.

"_You're_ still awake?"

"Why, of course. You didn't think I'd sleep, did you?"

I frowned. "In fact, I did."

"You were contemplating something. Just looking at you, I could tell that you were thinking. If only you knew your facial expressions when you think." She chuckled.

"You did not sense it?"

"We are not mind-readers, Luka." Miku snorted.

What a comforting thought.

"When will I get on my way?" I asked. I didn't want to be anywhere at the moment—not in the Mother Tree, not in the next land, not in the palace. I wished I hadn't turned fifteen. And what day was it, anyway? February something? The days slipped through my fingers like liquid, and I was powerless to stop the flow of time. Certainly I should be in the "next land" by now…

"A few days from now, I'd expect. Then of course we'd have to dress you up in mortal clothes, make you pretty, and somehow conjure a carriage so that it looks like you just had a delay in your journey. Oh, and your entourage."

"Can that all be made by faerie magic?" I was asking way too many questions for my own sake, but after a lifetime of holding in my questions, they seemed to pour out naturally. I was surprised (and slightly disappointed) at myself for not being _offended_ at Miku after she addressed me so boldly, as if I was of her status. Then again, she _was_ higher than me in a way—being a mythical creature helped.

Miku seemed to start to glare at me before thinking better of it. "No. We're not all-powerful beings, Luka. All we have is a little magic, perhaps for lifting ourselves in the air because our wings can't (what's with that look on your face? Of course we can't fly) do it themselves. We'd have to send some of our own. Queen Suzune could probably conjure such a carriage if Tone Rion doesn't get in her way—_yes_, she causes trouble for everybody—although I don't know the extent of the Queen's magic, so I really can't be sure. Anyway, since it'll be a lot of work, we're pretty much working on it the few days you're here."

"Oh." I would never admit that the midwife proved me wrong, of course, but here was truth right in front of me. The midwife was right about faeries' wings. I had focused on that part of Miku's words more than conjuring up all of what I need.

"Well then," Miku said cheerfully, "let's sleep now. Chase the questions out of your mind to ask me tomorrow."

"Miku?" I said softly. "I have a question."

"Ask me tomorrow!"

I ignored her. "Can you tell me a little about yourself?"

Miku's face shut like a stone. "Tomorrow."

_l~u~k~a_

I _needed_ to find out about Miku. It was an obstacle standing in my way—and what frustrated me about it was that I could find no way around it, and why I was so set on her past in the first place. Maybe it was her unwillingness to tell me about it that spurred me on.

She seemed very knowledgable about mortal rituals… more than the other faeries, at least. They had told me she was younger than a good lot of them. Was it possible that she was born as a mortal and somehow became a faerie? I had no idea how that was to happen, but I could find out in the midnight… when she was less conscious of her words and too sleepy to object to my questioning. That trick I had learnt not so long ago, perhaps a year or so back.

I clambered out of bed, kicking off the sheets that now entangled me, almost pinning me to the bed.

Ladies never crawled. But I was no lady in the Mother Tree. I crept toward her sleeping body; the lamp I had seen the day before provided a still, dim light to guide my way. Without it, it would be pitch dark.

"Miku. Miku."

She didn't answer.

I clambered on top of her, leaning downward, my nose almost touching hers. Yes, I was aware of how close I was to Miku. Yes, but I didn't care—maybe a little, but it was a pleasant inkling of thought while I had a bigger goal in mind. "_Miku_," I breathed. Her eyelids fluttered, but closed again—

_and opened wide._

Miku's mouth opened in a silent scream, but I clapped my left hand over it. I was leaning over her now, not as close to her as before, but close enough to stifle whatever she might say. My free hand roamed the sheets, searching for something to hold on, before landing on her chest, shoving the blankets away. Her fluttering heartbeat tickled my palm… so quick and consistent, that even I knew she was frightened.

"Get off of me," Miku said, her eyes still wide, but now in a commanding manner; "_Luka._"

Now I was annoyed. "What do you mean, _get off of me_? I've been asking you things, and you aren't replying. I've been ripped away from my comforts. Now you tell me to get off of you like _you're_ the queen? What—" I stopped suddenly. I wasn't sure why I even stopped. Miku blinked.

"Luka," she pleaded in a more conciliatory tone, "please _do_ get off of me."

"Why? Why should I?"

Miku's eyes flashed. "For your own— oh, never mind. Fine. Know then, Luka, that I am watched, by day and by night. Your action is most degrading for me."

She was much grander in the midnight than in the morning.

"Most degrading for you," I repeated. "Why?"

"Must you ask so much? All right. Do not be fazed, or I'll stop talking. I come from the deepest regions of Hell, reborn because I had the chance. As for the question at your lips, I was imprisoned, dragged down there because I loved one of the same sex, because I was a peasant and openly made love with the girl who was three or four classes higher than me. So you see? Your position, on top of mine, to those who are watching, seems that I'm allowing you to… love me. And they'll throw both of us in Hell if we're not careful."

She talked. Too fast. Too desperately. Too much for me to hold.

_Openly made love._

"You…" That was the only thing that could come out of my mouth. "That…"

"I've told you enough about me in one day." Miku pushed me off of her rather unceremoniously. "Come now, save your questions for tomorrow; wasn't that what I said?"

"Last one," I promised.

"As long as it is not about me."

"It's the faerie in general. How can you wake up in the midnight and be so wide awake?"

The faintest smile appeared in the corner of her mouth. "That," Miku said, "is a scientific feat even _we_ have not found the bottom of yet."

_l~u~k~a_

Days flitted by. I couldn't keep track of it all, but it was around a week before I found myself in a similar carriage, with a similar maids, makeup, and the clothes that were similar to what I had worn before.

I really had felt no connection to the Mother Tree whatsoever. The long passageways, hallways, and corridors were jumbled up and, as Miku explained, "changed day by day for security," and simply too confusing to navigate. I hardly knew any faerie or elf either; other than Miku and Queen Suzune, the rest of the faeries were quite aloof ("although," Miku said, "they're very friendly if you're promoted to faerie position—which, unless you want to give up your mortal life, you wouldn't even think of doing").

Beside that, Miku brushed me away whenever I brought up the subject of her past. It didn't matter where we were and whether we were alone or not. She shut me out when I began, "And about you…"

Miku now sat, subdued, next to me, as a maid. She looked out the window on the side of the carriage as we bumped by, the forest flashing by in all its brilliancy. It was funny that even though it was early February, the flowers were blooming, the trees were thriving…

"So, Luka," Miku suddenly said, throwing a pleading glance my way, "would you like to take a walk?"

_l~u~k~a_

I wasn't sure how it happened. I had consented to Miku's question (when, really, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to upset her either, for a strange reason). We were walking on the forest floor, somewhat warmed by the sun, when suddenly she tripped and I fell on top of her. _Perfect—_I laid my full weight on her so she couldn't possibly get up.

"Luka—I thought we had this conversation before." She squirmed, but I pinned her down.

"I want to know more."

"You—you don't understand, Luka." I was shocked to see Miku's eyes brimming with tears. "I wanted to lead you through. You _are_ through, somewhat; you can just go to the village and desert me now. I… I don't want you to know the entire truth about me."

"Why not?"

Miku's lips were set in a thin, determined line. "I can't tell." But after some prodding, she finally relented; perhaps that was her faerie heart.

"Luka, it is a sin to love someone of the same sex as you. I thought you knew? I didn't know until too late… I was orphaned, after all, and I roamed the streets of a land you know not of. I first was told that by the soldier who guards Hell.

"And I _was_ in Hell, for so long… until the Queen of the nymphs, the Elf Queen, Queen Suzune— decided to let me start anew as a mythical being, a faerie. I… _please, _Luka."

"I don't think I told you it before," I said, "but I love people of the same sex. Like you."

"Luka, just forfeit it. Try to love men. I was headstrong then; 'So what?' I said. 'Love is love. I will love girls. You cannot do anything about it.' The soldier promptly threw me in the deepest depths of Hell. I could not escape. I was chained there somehow, maybe by my own doings. The horror was unspeakable. I don't want you to be in Hell, too, to experience the same things I did, things that would rip your heart and feelings away from you and make you just want to die over and over."

"Miku."

"Luka, no—I've told you enough. Get off of—"

"What's the point? If I cannot have who I love, I will have no one. Why should I love men, whose activities disgust me? I care not about the ancient rules. I only want to be with the one I love. Yuzuki Yukari is dead, and now… you're my only tie to the world. Please don't break it." The words came out of nowhere. I reached out, and my hand closed around the collar of Miku's billowy white dress.

"You really love me?" Her voice was small.

I could provide no answer to the question. Did I? Did I love her? "I don't know. I do know that this is unforgivable. But I want to drown in you. Just… once. I want to melt into you; I want us to become one." The sudden poetic feeling was startling, but the words flowed out of my mouth freely. "Please… let me throw away my duties too."

* * *

**Well this was... shocking. I wrote more than I usually did again. **

**Thank you coolio for the concrit.**

**I think this chapter would spark a lot of controversy for some of the ones who read it. Luka's point of view comes taken from what I've seen of the feelings of those who are actually homosexual. (*_I DO NOT KNOW_ a homosexual person in real life, so I have _NO FIRSTHAND EXPERIENCE_ considering those terms. I used online information, usually from YouTube videos and wordpress publications or other blogs.) **

**The persecution of homosexuals has lasted a long while. I ****put myself in their [those who were look down upon because of what gender they were more attracted to] place and thought about how it would hav****e felt if I were the one targeted to get a little better understanding of how I was going to write this. Although Luka lived like five centuries ago, and is in a very high caste, so I would suppose she was treated differently about her views- especially with her personality and all.  
**

_**(that being said, if she openly expressed that she was homosexual back then, the might-be results are... scary to think of. especially when I research what they did to homosexuals.)**_

**Monster AN. Thank you for reading/reviewing.  
**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	6. Six – Accused of Wrongly

**Six – Accused of Wrongly**

It was a forest.

Open space.

We were only a little ahead of the carriages. Anybody could see us, if they looked.

"How are we supposed to conceal this?" Miku whispered. "Conceal it—not just from those who gave me a second chance, but the gods? God? The sky?"

"I actually don't know." Kneeling in the ground for so long, I saw some stains from the nature on my robe. Then defiance surged into me. "It doesn't matter, does it? You worry too much."

"This disregard of the rules of creation is way too strong, Luka. Rein in your—"

"I don't care!" I drew a thumb across her bottom lip, and she squirmed, perhaps in pleasure, perhaps of the feeling, or perhaps of discomfort. "Throughout my entire life, people have been scolding me, telling me I could do better. I could never meet their demands. It's all the fault of the gods, isn't it? My parents, they who allowed me to be born? Or it's my fault? I don't know, but I'm sick of it!"

She didn't protest anymore, and slackened her body, letting me explore her.

You have to understand that I lived a sheltered life. I had never done this before, never; at least not as the person on top. Now…

Now adrenaline rushed through me, powering my system. I now understood what it was to be intoxicated—or at least, have a small taste of the bitter juice of complete mesmerisation. I didn't know where the other faeries or elves were, and I didn't care.

It didn't matter that my future might be gone in a few seconds.

I had no idea how to do this, but it was almost like someone was guiding my moves. Every jerk of the body was perfect, every stroke. My clothes slipped off my shoulder, revealing a rather generous bit of my shoulder. My skin tingled with pleasure. The sensation was dizzying, tugging at all parts of my body and none at once—it felt as if I were spiraling toward a lovely destination unknown. I couldn't stop time, and as more enjoyment seeped into my body, I didn't want time to keep going, either. Savoring each moment…

_Shuffle._

Miku's eyes widened, and she shoved me off of her.

"Now they're here, Luka. Quickly, make yourself presentable."

I brushed a chunk of hair out of my face. "So? What would that matter?"

"_Luka_!" Miku snapped urgently. I moved back sharply, surprised at this suddenly outburst, and she fumbled for my clothes, forcibly jerking them over my head.

"Do you think that you could tidy your own clothes?" I whispered to her. "Magic?"

"You _still_ believe we're all-powerful beings?" Miku mumbled, still on the sharp edge as she distractedly ran her fingers through my hair to sort out the tangles.

"No, of course not." I scrambled onto my feet, none too ladylike. There was a _crack_ this time, not as subtle as a shuffle. Somebody _was_ there, and the old fear of the coachman seeped into me again. Miku pulled herself up.

Then a figure emerged from between the trees.

"Hello," Miku squeaked.

The faerie squinted at us, her grass-green hair glistening in the pale February sunlight. I recognized her as one of the faeries who acted in the place of one of my maids. Her emerald eyes narrowed at us, studying us, scrutinizing us, before she tromped over across the grass and grabbed Miku's hand, pulling the the latter to her feet and began fervently dusting Miku off.

"What have you two been _doing_?" the faerie demanded as Miku nudged her away ("I can do it myself, Gumi.").

"I tripped," Miku lied. "Luka was walking near me, so she fell… also."

Gumi's gaze followed Miku's to me. "Are you hiding something?"

"Oh, no; what makes you think that?" Miku laughed nervously. I didn't understand why she was so hesitant on telling Gumi out loud that she cared more about those of the same sex than opposite. But then, I wasn't too keen on it either.

"So," Gumi said slowly, "in a few more hours, we will be out of the forest. Do you not think that it's about time for Luka to get back onto the carriage?" Her piercing eyes surveyed me disapprovingly. "You must have been playing… rather wildly. Well, wait for us for a few minutes as we catch up." And she left.

"You never told me about Gumi before," I said the moment I was sure Gumi was out of earshot.

Miku shrugged. "It's only too easy to miss her. Gumi knows about my past. But… she blends in. Besides, you're not supposed to know much faeries, because we want your lingering tie to us as thin as it could be. Knowing faeries could affect your everyday life, you know. There are more faeries in the world than you think there are, and after you meet many of them, you can recognize faeries by sight and… that'd be really bad."

"I don't understand."

"You are better off not knowing."

_l~u~k~a_

We lingered at the edge of the forest. As the plants cleared off, the earth turned crumbly and thin, with few desperate shrubs deeply anchoring their roots into the loose soil. I knew that my homeland was on a plateau, but I did not know where it ended—until now. After a few more hours of bumping around and horses clopping, soon, we came to the edge.

A huge, steep cliff sharply dipped down to a lush green ravine. Wildflowers of the most peculiar hues dotted this great valley. The air was thinner and colder than the air that I was used to, but there wasn't such a lack of it that I couldn't catch my breath. Standing on higher ground, I could see great stretches of flat, fertile farmland. No wonder Father wanted this rich country to become a province of his own.

Nestled at the foot of the cliff was a group of houses—a village, no doubt. It was fairly small, and soon the houses clustered around the cliff began to become more and more spread out until only dots of buildings were littered in the distance. In the afternoon sunlight, I could see a few farmers and horses working their way through the wild, untamed meadows where the wildflowers grew, perhaps plowing. So early. Then again, other lands were not structured in the same way ours were. Thinking of the laws of nature, my thoughts suddenly turned sour again as I was reminded of how men and women were supposedly the "right" couple.

"I do not know how your father thinks he could have done it," said Gumi finally, shielding her eyes from the glare, "but how do we get down this ravine?"

"He hates me. He wants me to die."

Gumi turned around to glare at me. "He hates you but does not wish death upon you. Now, let me see if there is a gentler slope… or maybe we can call to the farmers for help." Her concealed wings shimmered brightly in the sun before fading to nothing again. Gumi, seemingly having noticed that, twisted her head around to observe her wings (for the third time that day). "They won't stay put, my wings."

"The sunlight is burning your concealment away. I _told_ you, you had to make it stronger." A girl with chocolate hair stepped forward and began tweaking Gumi's wings.

"_Stop it,_ Mizki! You're rubbing it away! Besides, _your_ wings aren't much better!"

A simple glance at them confirmed that Gumi's statement was true.

"So…" Mizki said slowly, shifting from one foot to another. Her eyes fell on me. "Would you be able to make the journey alone?"

"_Alone?_"

Miku's eyes darted from Mizki's to Gumi's wings, and to her own. "We need to get back to the Mother Tree to get more of the concealment powder. Heaven only knows what will happen in between if we escort you down. But you needn't travel far—this land should already have a portrait of you, so they'll recognize you soon enough."

_l~u~k~a_

I walked along the high, steep edge of the plateau, wondering how I could get down without getting dusty in any way. Clumps of bushy, sharp-edged gray-green grass grew solemnly at the very edge. Just looking down I could tell that it would be a steep drop if I ever chose to fall down.

For a few minutes I paced back and forth. I knew I looked like a confused peasant in a noblewoman's clothes, and then I saw a slope—steep, but not as steep as the cliff—not far away, a farmer herding his sheep down it.

Of course, I didn't know how to act, so I quickly walked down. It took a fairly long time even though momentum was pushing my back. When I finally arrived at the foot of the cliff, I realized that I was standing in the middle of a pasture of some kind, due to the smell—I'd driven past one or two. I hoped nobody recognized me yet (other than the farmer, but then, I didn't care much about _him_), and lifted my skirts and hurried onward.

The village, I realized, was not so near the cliff as I had envisioned, but it didn't take very much to get there.

By this time, I was wondering what was keeping the faeries. Certainly it couldn't take _that_ long, without the carriages and all? Then again, faeries were never good at keeping promises—information due to midwife.

_l~u~k~a_

An old woman was throwing out grain to the clucking chickens, from one of the houses on the outskirts of the village, when I approached her. She looked very much like a decrepit human being, on the brink of death, with her dusty, thin clothes and creaky movements and the patched-up bonnet tied absentmindedly in several knots under her chin, as if an afterthought. I was going to question her about the capital straightaway, but then I remembered the correct, diplomatic way to say it, and forced out a smile and a polite, eloquent question (though I was not sure if she knew what I was going to say).

She didn't. "What's that you're saying?"

"Do you know the way to the capital?"

The old lady squinted at me, and then gave a high-pitched cackle. "No, of course not! But perhaps my little grandson Lui would like to help you. Lui? Where are you? _Lui!_"

There was a muffled scuffle in the house, but that was it.

She turned back to me and sighed. "Not very responsive today, I'm afraid. He likes to birdwatch. Is a little bit dumb, but that's okay, because he very often has seizures. We teach him some at home. What's your name?"

I hesitated, but decided against my doubt anyway. "It's… Luka."

"_Luka_?" the old lady frowned. "_Luka?_"

What? What was wrong with that name?

"Yes."

Her eye twitched, and she nervously rubbed her old, bony hands together. "You couldn't be… Luka Megurine? Lord Luki Megurine's daughter?" Before I could answer, she plowed on: "The terrible, fearful Lord Luki who is set on making his deceased wife's land his own?"

What? I never knew that.

"Insane, insane man," whispered the old lady, her eyes bulging. "Murdered his wife in cold blood, cooked her limbs, and served it to his demon child…"

Apparently the tale had been modifiedin these parts. _Modified? No, destroyed! _I protested, "You don't know the truth! You—"

"This demon child, this demon child, standing right here, in front of me…" She began to back away. I opened my mouth again to contradict her, but again was run over by her quick, sharp accusing, spoken with a bated, breathless voice. "The demon child who ate what remained of her mother, the beloved princess of this land… Do you not know that her brother who rules over this land is planning your father's demise? He is cooped up in his tower, day after day, poring over war tactics… Dishonorable thing, yes, for your father to do…"

"You haven't heard what I heard!" My corset was squeezing my waist too tightly. I was desperate. I hadn't known that this was the land of my maternal uncle (in fact, I didn't know he existed at all), and I never quite loved my father, but to hear him spoken of like this… I took a step forward. "Please—"

"What can this demon child want? What can this demon child want from this old, old lady, poor as dirt?" The woman's voice turned shrill. It was obvious that she wasn't listening to me anymore…

"But— I come in—"

"_WITCH!_" the old lady screamed, throwing her grain sack onto the ground and running toward the middle of the town. Her eyes rolled backward in her head. "_WITCH! WITCH!_"

By this time, everybody had come out of their houses to see the commotion. When their gazes landed on me, their faces hardened into cold stone masks, and some ducked into the house and came back with some weapon of some kind—a pan, a rock, a chair. Murmurs went through the crowd of villagers. _"Frightening old lady Zatsune like that…" "No-good woman…"_ I backed away now, nearly tripping over my skirts, not knowing what I did wrong.

And then was the sensation of hands biting into my flesh, strong and rough and pinching. I twisted around to look at who these hands belonged to.

His shadow overlapped mine, and I couldn't see my own figure in that shadow. He towered over me—surely he was twice as tall as me. He wore regular rough homespun clothes that were of the cheapest fibers, like cotton or goathair. I knew because of the prickly texture, so different from my silky clothes.

_You are a lady, Luka, but not a snobby one. You will be kind to all…_

Those words popped out of nowhere, but I quickly straightened myself up, and deciding to make conversation, I squeaked, "Hello."

His eyes narrowed, and his hands grabbed my wrists all the more tightly, rubbing dirt into my soft silk sleeves, which flared out like bells. It might never be cleaned out. "Don't you move now, don't you struggle," he growled to me in a low, scratchy tone, harsh and forbidding. "You _witch," _spat it out like it was a bad word, his voice spiked with malice. "We will lock you up in the prison… Go obediently. The gallows… are yearning for more blood.

_"Go."_

* * *

**Apologies for not updating last week; I couldn't write the chapter during the week because I was away. Best experiences ever, though. (; **

**Thanks to Truna and Kuroi-Yasha for the constructive criticism! Did I miss anybody? Oh, and coolio again. :)**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing~ (;**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	7. Seven – You Who Lead Me From Despair

**Seven – You Who Lead Me From Despair**

"I—I'm not a witch!"

Even in the prison, the fellow convicts turned a cold eye onto me. I shrank into a corner of my stall. It was thankful that I was separated from the other convicts, although the way the prison was filled, it wasn't long before we'd be sharing stalls.

"Precious little kitten," snarled a scarred man that was maybe in his forties. "I see that even the coachman of your carriage did not succeed in sabotaging you."

It seemed as though this land had something against my father. "Why are there so many people in prison?" I mumbled, more to myself than to the others, but they caught on anyway.

The scarred man smiled humourlessly. "She really doesn't know, does she?" His roommates burst into loud, raucous laughter. "You see, this town is where the executions are most deadly, most painful. The knives here are the sharpest. All of the worst convicts in history are here or have died here—and now, darling, you're one of them."

I didn't know whether my pride could sink any lower than that, but it did. My cheeks burned. It wasn't fair that _I_, the daughter that her father never loved, was accused for my father's crimes… sins.

And suddenly, the world took on a clearer definition. My breath was caught so long in my chest that my lungs began to burn. To be a lord of a land… he couldn't be so oblivious to such hate radiating from all these people in the neighboring land, especially since he had a tie to the ruler of this one. He knew about it, and yet I had to go. "Fifteen years old," "treaty"… those were lies, all of them! They were diplomatic excuses to get rid of me. There was no way out of here, after all, especially not with me.

Why was I so _stupid_?

Why couldn't I figure it out _earlier_?

Why couldn't I read him, even though I lived so long with that wretched man? Why couldn't I have just _walked away_? Was I really that pampered?

I tried a bit to convince myself that all that money had gone to a waste— but, as I thought of it, he could make it up. He fared well with me, and could fare even better without. Strain was increasing in my eyes as I tried to fight off the tears. My knuckles dug into my shins, making angry red marks where I was clutching my legs. No sympathy was offered by the ones in the neighboring stalls; _they've probably been through it too… that's why they turned to sin and crime._

Or maybe this was nature's way of getting back to me for my rebelliousness. I had already committed an act against the basis of life, hadn't I?

Were all the things the midwife told me about him lies, then? Just to get me living there and then discharge me suddenly? So many puzzle pieces didn't fit, but I could already envision the full picture.

"_Spoiled princess, that one is; spoiled brat."_ Wasn't that what Cul, the cook, always said (behind my back, of course) when I threw a fit, particularly about food? "_What will come of her later on when she gets a husband? The husband will probably marry for money, not for personality, for she hasn't any, that plain, plain child, always with the sour frown, always unhappy."_

"_That princess—_Mistress _Luka, they call her, though she hasn't the manners of a _Mistress _at all—she stormed into the stables at the first break of dawn, demanding the brown horse to be put to sleep. Apparently she was playing down by the riverbank, with the brown horse grazing nearby, when she made a loud sound and he panicked and she thought he was going to kill her. Rubbish! Idiotic girl, the brown horse is the gentlest of its kind. And _no_, Cul, I do _not _care for a cup of coffee, how many times do I have to tell you? Cul, quit worrying, I _don't care _if I'm fired, but that long rant, she deserves it!"_ The stable hand…

As I quieted down and the men resumed their usual talking, digging into the depths of my mind, I could always remember at least some snippet of a conversation indicating how much of a brat I was. I could always pair a picture of the speaker with it, always loud and garish, the colours of the image.

The light on the horizon dimmed. I knew not of how many hours had passed, but the pastel, red-streaked sky was enough for me to guess that it had been quite some time. And I was sick of it all—for the thousandth time this journey, I was sick of it. Occasionally the men would throw a barbed insult my way, or what seemed of it, because my attention was focused mainly of what a wretched, stupid child I had been, what a wretched, stupid woman I was now…

My head hurt from asking myself so many questions. My eyes burned from trying to keep the tears from pouring, the tears caused by my self-deprecating comments.

_l~u~k~a_

The cold floor smelt rancid, like unsalted cold meat left to rot. Dirt was visibly laden in the tiles, entertwined with the tiles, _married_ to the tiles. I couldn't sleep on _that_—it was disgusting. I was dirty, but my hair was relatively clean, and I wasn't going to infect it with filth either.

My personality felt like a ping-pong match: first I was a selfish witch, then an almost generous person, and back to the selfish, nitpicky witch. A witch? Was that what I was?

I suddenly remembered the faeries. The realization that they'd abandoned me came, not as a flooding, but just a dull thump against the veins twisted around my heart. My temples pained more just thinking about it.

Focusing on the floor, I felt my headache slowly recede until it was but a small, irksome throbbing at the back of my head. The tiles became sharper, more defined. A jagged slice of rock, unevenly laid on the ground (in the palace, it was _never_ like this), surprisingly had only one or two major imperfections in it, but thousands of scratches and thousands of marks. Marks of time and years past. If it was lifted up from the floor, the sharp edge would certainly make a wonderful knife. A knife, covered with warm, red blood, gleaming as an afterthought only when the kill had already been executed. I remembered such a knife from when I was younger, only it was big, huge, wielded by a big, huge man, whose heart had long since gone to allow him to perform such a gory task. Just a machine to chop off a sinner's head, a defier of the laws of nature, a…

A hot drop of water (presumably from my eyes, though I didn't understand why I was suddenly crying) smoothly splashed only the floor like melted fat dripping from a candle-maker. It made a tiny lake, having fallen into the very groove of the tile. In the ripples of the surface, I could see some detail: the moonlight and a dark shadow that must be me.

_Luka…_

My name? Yes, that was my name. Luka Megurine, the only daughter of Lord Luki and his wife—and then again, I wasn't Father's daughter. I wasn't related to him by blood… not quite. I never heard the name of my real father, but that was probably just as well.

_Luka…_

That was what they always said when I was young, "Luka, Luka," until I insisted them call me Mistress. I _was_ a mistress, wasn't I?

_Luka…_

What was so special about that name? Luka. It reminded me of milk, freshly heated, with a tangy-warm taste, in a bowl. No… the name Luka did not apply to the milk itself. It applied to the ripples that spread across the milk. Ripples across milk? At once I laughed at myself. What was that supposed to mean?

"_Luka_."

I blinked. Someone had spoken my name.

A spark of fear ignited in my gut, and I twisted around, trying to get a glimpse of who had called my name, but I was only peering into the moonlit darkness. It was only my imagination, then—the visions that one creates to keep oneself company.

"_Luka._"

Just my imagination, but hearing it twice made me not as sure.

"Luka, you _can_ hear me, am I right?"

The surprise sent a shock crawling across my heart. I looked up to see Miku peering through the bars of the only window, high above my head. She pushed and pulled on the bars, trying to break them free.

"Sorry, Tone Rion kept us waiting back at the Mother Tree by hiding Gumi and Mizki's concealment powder. She did something to the carriages, I still can't figure out what, so we had to come back by foot, and by the time we arrived back at where we left you, you disappeared. Of course Gumi would panic and say her destiny has just disappeared, so she went off hunting for you. I came down to the village and couldn't find you, so I searched around—…" She jerked back. "It's dangerous talking to you right here. Do you know how to break these bars? I've tried twisting them. They twist easily, but they don't come off."

I stood up. Reaching as high as I could, my fingers could just nick the edge of the window. They chipped off some loose plaster.

"Oh, you're too short for it. I'll get Gumi over—pretend you're sleeping. Oh, and we did some asking around and you're going to be led to the gallows at daybreak, so we'll have to get out before that."

Surprising how Miku could speak with such a straight face.

_l~u~k~a_

It really wasn't scary. Having two faeries, mythical beings, beside me helped. It was _supposed_ to be scary, but it wasn't.

Gumi, grumbling somewhat, pried the bars away from the window with no effort at all. Her slim fingers easily did all the work (although Miku and I did try to help). Then it was a problem of how I was to get up there.

"I would try to make her fly, except she can't grow wings out of the blue," Gumi said. "You'll have to climb, Luka."

Climbing was difficult, for I didn't know how to climb, and neither Gumi nor Miku could help me. But the wall was rough. Due to instinct, I placed one foot on a rock jutting sharply out of the wall and felt the rock shudder under my weight.

"Here," Miku said. "You have another foothold not far from that one—I _think_ it is a foothold—so just get balanced on those and we'll pull you up. I hope you can fit through this opening."

"_You_ can," Gumi said drily. "Your entire body can."

"Yes, but…"

The sentence hung in the air. "But… she's plumper than me. No—_no_, Luka, you're not _fat_, but I have my doubts about… you getting stuck…"

"You would worry about sustaining her weight, too. But it's not a high fall from here." Gumi glanced over her shoulder. "The ground is higher outside than in your prison." How strange. I hadn't noticed at all. Then again, I was panicking too much. "It's still a tall wall, though, and it might hurt if you were to fall."

"How are _you_ able to keep your balance up there, then?"

"We're perched on tree branches, you can come see. Although we'll get in equal trouble as you if someone finds us out. In fact, I'm surprised we haven't already."

_l~u~k~a_

I did have a little trouble going through the tiny hole of a window, but that was mainly because of my fabrics and skirts, which were especially uncomfortable when I was trying to do something that normally men did. Thankfully, I ended up on the other side, my skirts flying out unattractively and landing with a _thump._

"Shhh," Gumi admonished, though the sound had already reverberated across the landscape.

The sky was lightening up. The velvety darkness was fading away, the constellations slowly blowing out their shine for another day. It wasn't quite day yet—the tranquil section of time that night and day happened to combine. Closest to the horizon (the rolling hills and trees were still blocking it, though), a lovely paint of sea-green was sprayed onto the tough white canvas of the world, spreading to gray-blue. This was where the stars were disappearing, but the rest of the sky was still dark. It was as if we were in a glass dome.

A man's hoarse shout broke through the silence. "Hey, _hey!_ It ain't time yet for her."

"I know it's a bit early, but I'd love to feel that kitten before she dies!"

"Somehow," I said, my eyes pinned to the area where I vaguely determined the shouts were coming from, "somehow, I think they're talking about me."

"You know what's strange?" Gumi said. "I do too."

"That soft skin!" The man's raving voice traveled all the way to here. "I think I'd like to… yes… a bruise or a broken bone on her would be nice! A little imperfection to that perfect girl of the rat Megurine… I think that'd suit her well, don't you?"

Miku locked eyes with us both. "Now it's kind of obvious he's talking about you, Luka."

"What are you two imbeciles standing there for?" demanded Gumi, finally snapping out of her trance. "When you hear a man like that, your instinct is…"

"Is…?" I prompted.

"You really _are_ stupid. Stupid, and naive, and—…"

That old anger flared up in me, but before I had time to respond, the man shouted again. This time, he was nearer—as if he was in the building we stood next to. "My meal, she's so near!"

"Your instinct is… _Run._"

"It's not like we have another enticing choice!" Miku shouted as she grabbed my arm and tore off into the thorny bushes.

* * *

**Was being productive yesterday, finishing up several projects and starting another that's due in 3 or 4 days. In doing so, I forgot to update.  
**

**So here is the belated chapter. Enjoy (;**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	8. Eight – To Take Back --

**Eight – To Take Back Without Any Choice Spared**

The bushes weren't that thorny, I discovered. They were more… spiky and fuzzy in a sharp way.

Personally, it had been a lot of running away for me, but I didn't tell that to Miku as she dragged me along. My legs were not as fast as hers, so several times I came close to tripping; and once I did, scratching my face on the bushes. Gumi pulled me up and gave me a push so I lurched forward, but Miku somehow caught my hand, and we ended up in a clearing.

"Interesting. So how do we get back now?"

"Gumi, you were the one who told us to run!"

"The man probably heard us," Gumi said, ignoring Miku. "Luka, you're really pretty to have attracted two men in the space of a little more than half-a-month."

"No, everybody wants to kill me," I replied honestly, although I couldn't help but be flattered by the compliment. If it was a compliment at all.

We could hear faint shouts of the man: "She isn't there! Why isn't she there?"

"So do you want to get back to the Mother Tree?"

"What an enticing idea." Gumi smiled thinly.

_l~u~k~a_

I lived there with Miku for a season and adopted many of the faeries' habits, although I still felt like a second thumb on the hand. I came to understand what sort of trouble Tone Rion caused (although she wasn't particularly snotty once I met her, just seriously mischievous and energetic, bouncing all over the place), daily life, and among other things.

These faeries were _really_ different from the ones in stories. You would expect that they did nothing all day but dance around the woods, steal handsome young men's clothes, wash them, and return it back to the young man to get married, but just using Miku, you could tell that her life was centered on hard realism. It occurred to me once that Miku remembered her past life, but when I asked her, she shrugged and said she didn't know why.

Then, one day, Queen Suzune called me to meet her in the forest.

"You'll know where in the forest when you step out of the Mother Tree," she told me in the note.

Naturally, I didn't, but after wandering about in a few circles, I found Queen Suzune not very far from the Mother Tree. She was sitting on a huge fallen branch, laden with soft moss.

"You see," she said with a smile, before the question even left my open mouth, "you knew where to go. Take a seat. You can sit across from me on the ground or next to me on the log, I can talk to you either way; so it doesn't really matter."

I chose to sit next to her, so I wouldn't have to look up at her all the time.

"So Luka." Her voice was pleasant. "You've lived with us for a while."

"Yes."

"Have you learnt anything from it?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Queen Suzune laughed good-naturedly. "Trick question. But you do realize that you cannot live with us forever."

It had not occurred to me before—it might have, but I never really thought about it. Now that my mind grasped that fully, a chill sped down my back.

"I can't continue my journey," I said matter-of-factly—desperately, in fact, trying to grasp any excuse for me to stay there. Miku had become a very close friend, although we never talked about strictly ourselves with each other again. Unfortunately, Queen Suzune had been chosen as Elf Queen for a reason, for with her insight she could see right through my words; as if they were transparent to reveal the intention I had beneath.

"It is not a problem for us, Luka, for you to stay, but for you."

"I don't understand."

"You will have to return to your society sooner or later, or you might fade into one of us forever."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Ah, no, it's bad. _Fade_, it means to _disappear._ Which means even we will not be able to… see you. As if you are only a ghost. Of course, you'll become visible sooner or later—usually a few seconds before you die, because that's just how nature works. You'll still go to your destined afterlife after you die. But it's a long, lonely life. Personal experience with merpeople."

So something bad had happened to Queen Suzune in her "other" life, too. Was that what built into the faeries' existence?

"Anyhow," the Queen said, quickly hurrying along now, "just food for thought. I am not shooing you away but this is a warning to your mere existence. Now I suppose dinner is ready."

_l~u~k~a_

They came on a late spring night, the air scented heavily with the fresh odors trees emitted in plants' growing season. Miku and I had both settled into bed after a small, petty quarrel—or what a wise woman would deem, but it had been one of the first times we had ever argued seriously. I lay in bed, reviewing my words, wondering what I had done wrong, wondering what caused the raised voices and anger, when a faerie's cry pierced the air.

"Get her! Get _Luka_!"

Miku raised her head sleepily from her bed, evidently fallen asleep (surprisingly fast, considering that we had squabbled just a few minutes before). "Tone Rion, shut up! It's one of your pranks again, isn't it?"

The purple-haired, nasal-voiced girl burst through the wooden door. Miku leapt up, her arms covering her chest, shielding her breasts from Tone Rion's view (_She went to sleep without putting on her nightgown?_ I wondered, before realizing that the nightgown was loose at the shoulders and had slipped downward). The latter giggled, pointing, before her gaze landed on me—and her expression morphed into one of absolute horror.

By this time, a couple of others had pooled into the hallway, listening in with mild interest or actually alarmed.

Tone Rion grabbed me by the shoulder and began dragging me out. Tiny as she was, she was also strong. I struggled this time and was successful, due to Miku helping me. However, the victory didn't last, for Queen Suzune came to see the commotion and eased Miku's hand off of me.

"I told you, Luka," she said, sounding almost sad. "But now… nature has its own ways, and surprisingly, it decided that those who you are most closely associated with will take you back by force."

"But—Tone Rion, she sounded as if she were accusing Luka!" Miku protested.

Evidently she had forgotten our argument. Either that, or she had forgiven me already.

Queen Suzune smiled thinly. "So she did. We can talk about this later, Miku."

"But—"

"You might see Luka somewhere in the future—but for now, she must go willingly with her own people."

It was a sermon. A heartless sermon. I never hated Queen Suzune so much before.

_l~u~k~a_

My father's men, or so Queen Suzune implied, handled me roughly. What had happened was that Tone Rion had been out playing with a stick, in the resting hours, when she spotted them lumbering through the forest and rushed back into the Tree, knowing that it was I they seeked. So I had to go out of the Tree, and stood awkwardly in front of the log for a while until the burly idiots noticed me.

They treated me without ceremony, stuffing me into the carriage and gruffly telling me that I was requested back at Father's kingdom.

My head was spinning. My old dignity and pride had come back to me, and I was determined to use it back to its full extent. Maybe with Yuzuki Yukari (who was dead now) or the faeries (who fairly abandoned me) I could treat others as… equals, but with servants…

I dreaded the return back to Father's palace—and how much of the story did he know? Or was it based on gossip and rumors?—because I would have to tell him I failed my mission. Reasoning would do me no good; telling the true story of the coachman, trying to negotiate but failing, but omitting parts about the faeries, he would not believe me. It had to come from someone else's lips, one of the midwife's or his trusted advisors.

But even so, in the carriage, I could do mostly whatever I wanted. I opened my mouth to issue a command, before one of the coarse men interrupted me.

"Oh, and Lord Luki tells us that we are your superior now. He will file the disownment papers once you come back."

My mouth snapped shut.

My wretched, wretched world.

My wretched, wretched life.

* * *

**I told you the chapters would get shorter.  
**

**It's a sharp turn from the plotline I wanted, but I'm going to see if I can put this back on track. (And sorry for not updating last week. ;w; No excuse this time, just that I didn't finish the chapter.) Thanks for reading/reviewing as always!**

_**Mary Prowess-**_**I would contact you if I knew how. You're anonymous and you had no link I could send a message to. Thanks in advance~ (:**

**~Wishie**


	9. EXTRA – 8point5 – Adventures with Miku

**EXTRA – 8.5 – Adventures with Miku**

On the bumpy road, I thought about what I had done with Miku during the short time (again) that we were together. Why was it that whenever I got something good happening to me, it had to be snatched away again? I sourly looked at the men driving and quickly glanced away when one of the men turned toward me. I could feel his eyes on me for a while, but they seemed to dart away again.

_Stupid Tone Rion. Stupid Queen Suzune. Stupid, foolish me, for allowing myself such weakness as to love…_

Did I really think that?

My heartbeat quickened. When did I ever think about loving Miku? Mainly we were just talking, laughing, discussing petty things. I adored her, yes, and I would feel more self-conscious whenever I looked at her. Wait—was _this_ love? Was this the love mentioned in so many of those literatures? I always thought love was deep and solemn, red and purple and gold and majestic, not lighthearted and in hues of yellow and creamy peach and hinting of summer lilies and daffodils. My thoughts were getting more and more jumbled in my brain.

I leaned my head against the back of the wooden seat and dully looked forward. This was a time when I would sort out my memories, discarding some, making some my favorites. This was the time when I did not wish to be bothered.

I opened the box of memories that I shared with Miku, first.

_l~u~k~a_

I. The Berries

Well… they weren't memories exactly. Memories for me had to be fairly old to be called memories. But this was like a coronation, a time when premature memories became actual memories, even if they were still fresh on my mind.

The first thing that came to me was the berries. In the early morning, Miku had woken me up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Wear your simplest dress," she said. "The one you're most willing to sacrifice. We're going berry-picking."

"It's not time for berries yet."

"Oh, so you've never heard of faerie-berries. Just as well, because they're really not berries anyway. But they're good to eat. Hurry up."

"I only have one or two dresses, and it'd be a pity to get any of them dirty."

"Silly you," Miku laughed. "They're just plain old linen dresses. I know you have fiery silks and deep purples back at your home. Oops—did I hit a nerve? Anyhow, I can see that you just don't want to go berry-picking. Like you've ever been before? In my time, princesses didn't go berry-picking. Their servants did it for them. They thought it was too thorny. But once you get past the thorns, the berries are a real treat. Wait, I just said they weren't berries. Anyway, are you coming? Wait, what a silly question. You _have_ to come. This is the particular season for faerie-berries to be picked and the particular time. You can't have it otherwise. We'll be late for the majestic berry-popping, Luka! Now there, get out of bed."

"Miku."

"Yes."

"Shut _up._"

Through a slit in my eyelid, I saw her face fall. "But Luka… it's so much fun!"

"I'll leap on you again."

"You can leap on me if you go berry-picking," she said airily. "Help me pick berries and we can… Wait, _what_? No! Fine, you can intimately _touch_ me. As in my face. But that's it. Hurry up."

"You are asking too much of me," I grumbled, climbing out of bed.

"No, trust me, you'll like it!"

Once we were outside the Mother Tree, she took off some random direction, giggling.

"Hey—wait! I don't run as fast as you!" I began to sprint after her, except she showed no sign of hearing what I said and only, if it was possible, went faster. "Miku, I will _not_ be happy with you once we come back!" I fumed.

"Oh, don't worry, when you come back, you'll be so happy you won't even _think_ of doing any harm to me!"

"Like that will happen!"

At an inhabited clearing, she suddenly stopped stone still in her tracks. Momentum wouldn't let have it to let me stop as well, so I went barreling into her, and we fell down on the soft grass together. Although the grass absorbed some of the pain of the fall, a vibration jolted through my body before I was finally able to focus on Miku, right below me. I didn't have any time to react before she sat up and pushed me off of her.

"Oops," she giggled. "Sorry. Wouldn't be nice if someone just saw us right then."

"What happened to you?" I demanded. "Why are you so energetic today? I mean, you've always been a little eccentric, but right now you're dancing—"

"Oh, _there's_ the faerie-berry bush! I knew it was there!"

I followed her gaze to an innocent-looking bush, with dark green, glossy leaves. There was no fruit on it. But the peculiar thing was that, as I watched, a fragrant scent lifted off of the bush. There weren't enough words in my vocabulary to describe this smell. It was strong, nose-tickling, and my eyes watered just breathing the air in. As I watched, the balmy essence of summer suddenly took over, and with a little _pop_, a small, knuckle-sized berry appeared on a stem.

It looked fragile and so round and perfect that I longed to touch it, see its texture; it like it was mist that would be burned away by the sun. It was made of silvery little wisps and glowed softly, illuminating the leaves.

"Nobody discovered this bush but us, the faeries," Miku said quietly.. "That's why we call it faerie-berries. They're very comforting-tasting when you taste them. I almost eat more berries than I pick. These berries die when the first rays of sunlight touches it, so that's why we have to pick them straightaway and stow it in our… Oh." She looked sheepish.

"What?"

"I didn't bring a basket. Well, store them securely in your dresses, then. They just disappear when they die, except they leave the scent you just smelled."

"Are these magical? Like, when you eat it, will you become magical?" I asked.

"No. Well, the plant itself has some elements of what you call 'magic,' I guess, but once you pull the plant out of the ground the magic just disappears. I don't know. It doesn't transfer to you, at least not us faeries. But the plant _is_ a little magical if it can just produce berries like… that." She snapped her fingers.

"Oh. So should we pick it?"

"I'm glad you just didn't rush to pick it. No. Because it needs a few minutes to mature and grow bigger. It'll just taste sour if you pick it now. A waste of a berry." Miku's face was calm and rapt, pleased, as she kept concentrating on the bush. "I _love_ watching these berries pop. They're so beautiful. Sometimes they pop in the middle of the night, too, and are clustered on the branches once we get there. That's the best. I suppose it happens in a sequence, like every seven years they'd pop in the middle of the night. That's when they taste the best, too. The moonlight strengthens them and keeps them fresh. I guess you can say that they're moon berries or whatever. But we call them faerie-berries because they're not really berries. Ooh, it's matured now. Do you want to try it? The first berry is the best."

A few more _pops_, and more berries appeared on the bush. I gingerly took the first berry in my fingers. It was hard and smooth and marvelously cool, like a ball of silver or gold, except this was the edible type of smooth. When I tried to pull it off, the branch went with me with a rustle.

Miku giggled. "You don't do it that way. See here, you twist—and _then_ you pull." She helped me pull off the berry, and watched as I took a careful, miniscule bite. "It won't kill you, silly."

"What if it's poisonous to mortals?" I argued, but was already in the middle of my second bite. The berry was absolutely wonderful. A perfect mix of… I didn't know how to word it. It was cool, and its flesh was sweet and refreshing; a fabulous, tangy taste, that was what it had. Its skin was sour and seemed to whisk itself away when I bit it, a minty breeze that filled my entire mouth. The flesh was deliciously cool and sweet and stayed a little longer in my mouth than the skin. The funny thing was that it was not juicy, but it was sticky. The half-eaten silver berry (perhaps it wasn't wise to call it anymore; while we were talking, it had swollen to twice the size that it was when it popped) glistened in the middle of my palm.

Miku grinned. "Now start picking. But finish the berry first."

As we twisted the berries off their stems, I asked, "Why aren't all the other faeries here?"

"Oh, we take turns to pick during the days of faerie-berry maturing season. I just have the first day this year. But the first day's the best. Though I like the late bloomers, too. They're very sweet and not as minty and cool as this one—more juicy and sticky. If you mess up, like pick one day early, then that's kind of bad."

"I see."

End

_l~u~k~a_

_That's one of the more calm experiences I'd had with her,_ I thought wryly. The day had passed in rushing back to the Mother Tree with the berries in our skirts. Some of the berries had disappeared, but the majority was still there, so one faerie took the berries and ground them into a fine powder to make into seasoning. Some she set around to keep cool for the hotter summer days, and some she made Miku and I make into treats, because it was our turn at the kitchen that day.

Then the week passed in berry-picking, and on the first day of the next week, Miku took me climbing trees.

_l~u~k~a_

II. The Tree

"No, no, _no._ I went all week, berry-picking with you. I will _not_ climb trees. Trees are too revealing. Anybody can look up and see me. I'll be like a naughty little boy. Where do you find such unwomanly actions to carry out?"

"Luka, try it for once! Faeries do it for sport. Plus, you didn't want to go berry-picking, and I can tell you enjoyed it a lot! I know your mechanism now."

For some reason, Miku gave me the feeling that I had to take care of her. The side I had seen of her when she wasn't talkative made a protective feeling surge up inside me whenever I glanced over at her. Inside, really, she was frail and dainty. The gentlest tremor, the smallest shake could crumble her ever-energetic mask.

Miku had layers.

I hated to penetrate through those layers and whack a soft spot (again), but tree-climbing…

I refused. "_No_, Miku. I will _not_ do this sort of thing."

The tree loomed in front of us still, tall and proud. It had smooth white bark that was ruptured in some places, showing brown bark. Its branches were spread out and wide, and its trunk was thick, with a huge, sturdy branch sticking out of its side a few feet off the ground.

"It's safe, really."

"_No._"

It was funny how, even though Miku was older than me (or at least _looked_ older than me), I acted more mature than her. At times. And I was one of the last people you'd think of if you were to find someone who was mature. Not that either of us were childish; more like rash, able to make huge decisions in a tiny amount of time, except the decisions were of different types. Miku's rash decisions usually came in play, when she thought of something adventurous to do, and my rash decisions came during somber moments, moments in which I had to decide.

But somehow I relented anyway, and I ended up clinging for my life on the tree branch lowest to the ground. Miku was already several branches above me, her legs clamped together. "Come on, Luka!" she called. "It's fun! Just shinny up!"

"It's _fun_? Well, I'm not as skilled as you!"

"Tragically, you'll never be if you don't try," she said calmly. "Don't look down. Climb up."

Unfortunately, I hadn't remembered to tell her that I was severely acrophobic (along with afraid of swimming) and it was near impossible for me to look down. The bark was smooth, as I said, so I hadn't any footholds but the branch I was standing on and the very thin, rather weak-looking branch above. When I grabbed it, it bent to my hold and was pulled off the tree. "So much for that."

"Oh… you can just climb up without using that, you know. Just keep holding the tree. It's not completely straight and smooth, it has those odd poking-out places on the bark. So they'll help you."

Miku's advice was how I ended up stomping back to the Mother Tree, my hands scraped raw, leaves and branches in my tangled hair, my wrist and shin throbbing, and my dress torn, fuming, "Never again!"

But she was there, always there, stopping me and smiling and tending to my scraped hand. One of the rare moments when she acted older than me, like a big sister. "Come on now, that wasn't too bad, wasn't it?"

"Are you kidding? It was horrible!"

"Well, I guess you're not suited for tree-climbing."

"Not suited!" I said indignantly. That had provoked me, so the next day I tried again and got a little farther, and I didn't fall down that time. I was scared, though, so I slid off before I could get to the mark Miku reached.

End

_l~u~k~a_

There was one more memory that lingered in my mind, longer than the others. It was, really, just a glimpse, a very short time with Miku. The funny thing was that I remembered it most. It reminded me of something, although I couldn't put my finger to what it reminded me of. I did know that it made the blood pound excitedly in my skull and my cheeks to flush, my heartbeat to race and my hands to tremble, as if I had been inspired by this image to do something.

However, I wasn't. So I reviewed the images in my head again and again, not figuring out what was so special about them.

_l~u~k~a_

The Robin and Dove

"Look at that," Miku breathed, pulling me down beside her. "Oh, oops."

"They're just birds."

And they were birds. Two birds, different species, one on the Mother Tree's lowest branch, the other perched on a huge slab of stone nearby. They seemed to be tittering to each other, which was strange, because I thought birds only spoke to their own kind.

"They're not just birds. They're a robin and a sparrow."

"What difference does that make? They're two of the most commonly found birds around here," I scoffed. "Sparrows and swallows swoop down to get some extras of the seed they fed to our chickens, back at the palace. Robins… I guess I don't see robins as much, but in those pretty gardens they're always there, hopping after people. Hoping for a crumb or two, I would guess."

"Would you _stop_ undermining every little thing that comes across your way?" Miku exploded.

"… What?" It wasn't that I hadn't heard her; rather, it was because she hardly ever spoke that way.

"_Yes_!" Miku said in an annoyed tone. "Do you think I _care_ whether you have a bad opinion of it or not? Well, I do care, sometimes, but it's only too irritating when you start complaining about everything! I suppose you could be nice and all, but the way you were raised…"

"_Everyone_ has problems with the way I was raised!"

"… Though you're in a high position, so I guess that leaves my arguments invalid…"

"I'm _sorry_, Miku!"

She stopped ranting and looked at me. I searched her face for any signs of amusement, a smile—anything that would tell me that she wasn't really angry. But her cyan eyes were dark and her mouth was set in a rigid line, which softened slightly while she kept gazing at me. Her teeth were clenched tightly together. This was my first glimpse of her aggressive side. For several breathless moments, we stared at each other, until Miku finally relaxed her stiff, severe stance.

"I'm sorry, too."

_You haven't anything to be sorry for,_ I wanted to say, but the sentence was lodged in my throat and I couldn't get it out. Miku turned back to the birds, who seemed to be oblivious to us and not caring whether we screamed or shouted.

"Luka."

"Hello."

"I'm forgiven, right?"

"Fairly." I thought about using sarcasm, but that hadn't worked well in my other experiences.

"Look at the birds, then. They're both female. And different species. But they're still birds. Somehow they're the same. That is like us. Although those birds might not love each other, some affection seems to exist between them. I wish I could be like that with you."

"I _do_ love you," I protested. "In my ways. And how do you know whether they're female or not? And what do you mean by 'I wish I could be like that with you'?"

She shrugged. "Faerie thing."

A pause.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I did."

"The other one."

"Well, I don't know how to answer it. I don't know what to say about it. I guess I do have some fondness for you, but just curiosity, not to the point of actually… you know. You might feel such passion for me to wish we could physically connect with each other, but I don't… at least, not yet." Miku exhaled. "I'm falling, Luka. I'm falling. It's a sinkhole. I don't feel bad about it; in fact, I _want_ to fall, but it's pushing me down, down, down, crushing me. Like my experience in Hell replaying all over again, except this time, it's with pleasant feeling and love."

"Oh," was the only thing I said.

"These two birds, I've just seen them today. You hardly ever see robins and sparrows in this section of the forest, especially together, so I think some sorcery that involves other faeries or nature or accusations of witchcraft is going on. But these two birds… I envy them, in a way." Then Miku suddenly looked up at me, her eyes doubting. "Is that bad?"

I could not answer.

End

_l~u~k~a_

The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop. One of the men called roughly, "What are you blocking us for? Move over! Move over!"

"Yes, sir," humbly whispered a hoarse, female voice. I pushed the satin curtains an inch away from the frame and peeked out for the first time. We were on a dusty road now, out of the forest but still near it, and a peasant with pockmarked cheeks was quickly ducking to the side of the road, calling her chickens to follow her. She was could not be more than eleven years old, I could tell, and she might have been beautiful if not for those scars all over her body. She might have been beautiful if she wasn't so thin and malnourished. Her badly dented skin was stretched tightly over her sharp, define bones, her teeth were rotting, and there were sores on her scalp, the places where the handkerchief did not cover. A man called from inside a crude stone house, and she quickly hurried away, not looking back.

For a strange reason, I finally felt for the peasants. A torrent of feeling gushed over me. My stomach twisted itself in a knot. I was usually sheltered from these sights. But for this girl… this girl, she must have been married. Usually, peasants would not marry until they were twelve or thirteen or fourteen, but in hard times… hard times, of famine and disease…

This could only have happened as a result to some aristocratic decision. And my father ruled over this piece of land. _What did he do? What terrible deeds of his have been kept from me?_

My gaze swept over the land again, the dusty land, the skimpy stone huts. And the vision of the malnourished girl kept popping into my head. And yet, the wealthy places, where we lived, there were no such signs. Beautiful green fields. Beautiful trees. Ponds and rivers and lakes and meadows. Why was it different?

_Oh, Father,_ I thought in horror, _what have you done?_

* * *

**(The hell? FFn is not giving me any alerts... I had no idea I had 4 PMs...) I, like Luka, have never mastered the art of tree-climbing. I am not acrophobic like her, but I just don't have the skill._  
_**

**Sorry, coolio; I couldn't end this chapter on a happy note. I'll be sure to try to end the next, though.**

**Thanks for Reading/Reviewing~! (;**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	10. Nine – The Escape That I Long For

**Nine – The Escape that I Long For**

_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you all. May you all burn in the deepest, darkest stretches of Hell._

Those unforgivable, terrible, vengeful words ran through my head as I suffered my father's cold stare down at me, maids tittering behind their hands, and the midwife absentmindedly patting my hand as her fat belly quivered.

Utter humiliation, that was what my father wanted me to feel—and he was successful. He was successful, like with any other instalment he inflicted upon me.

I did not know what he had heard about this journey. I did not want to know. The men had hurried me through the forest, back to the palace, with no more explanation than they had already given me. They weren't excessively rude—probably because they did not know how to handle their position "higher" than me yet. Or they didn't want to embarrass me, but unless they were stupid to the core, they would have known I was already embarrassed by Tone Rion.

My father cleared his throat again, and a wave of snickering and hidden snarky smiles behind hands swept throughout the room. He didn't yell for anybody to quiet down. He only smiled tolerantly, the dangerous gleam still lingering in his eyes.

"So, let us begin again," he said calmly, adjusting his robes, and turning to his best advisor. "Shion, would you please."

The blue-haired man stepped forward, his hair peppered with spirals of gray and white. He leaned heavily on a cane to support himself, swept a hand across his wrinkled face, pinched his nose, pushed his glasses up his nose, coughed, and at a snail's pace raised the curled sheet of parchment up to the light to read. Then Kaito Shion squinted at the tiny but elegant writing that swirled across the sheet, coughed again, and reached up to take his grime-coated glasses, dusty and gray with age, off the bridge of his nose to wipe them with a handkerchief that was just as dirty. I stared at him in mild fascination—for it is not often that Lord Luki would employ such a turtle to do the most important readings, transcribe the most important scripts… and such. The Shion family had always been advisors of our family line over the centuries; and Kaito Shion was last of them that still had the surname of Shion, but it was hardly for sentimental purposes that my father did anything. Then I understood why Father had kept him when Shion finally opened his mouth to speak.

His voice was creaky and unstable at first, but soon flowed in a rich warmness—warmness, as in liquid gold, the syrupy, flaming power that enveloped the listeners in its almighty embrace. Shion's voice was not warm like a summer day, the warm that told me I was forgiven, or the warm that beckoned a child for some biscuits… no, it was the malevolent, ferocious flame that licked upwards toward the sky at a witch burning.

Kaito Shion had originally been a preacher… or a priest. When his father before him died, he took up the job of king's first advisor. He had a sister, named Kaiko perhaps, who was too weak and sickly to marry and spent the rest of her short life as a spinster in bed. Due to centuries of inbreeding to keep the Shion name and family blood (though it happened less often with us), Kaito wasn't the brightest, but certainly the most flexible- and powerful-voiced. He aged quickly, maybe because of the stress being the lord's first advisor heaped on him.

Although Shion was a powerful speaker, I quickly lost interest, for all too soon as he began reading, he started droning when he came to the "crimes" I had "committed" against my father, of which I had no intention or idea of doing—tripping over my dresses, spilling a pail of milk on my way to the outside on a horse—in fact, it was a sore shock that they were crimes at all.

_All of the peasants would be in prison if they knew that these were crimes,_ I thought as I stood there, catching a phrase or two of what I was accused of. So this was what it was like at a criminal's hearing, although I supposed that instead of my father sitting in that high position, it would be the judge.

From what little I knew of peasant lives, I knew for one that they mended and sewed and milked cows and made cheese from the milk. They ate salted pork, water flavored with lemons—or that was just my luxury?

Regardless of that, my anger peaked at some points during the speech, and slowly climbed down again. It was only a boring, long lecture.

Finally, Shion folded up the scroll and shuffled back to his spot in the line. My father idly tapped his throne armrest for a few minutes before speaking again.

"So you see, Luka," he said silkily, "those are your disownment papers."

_You're disobeying your own laws._

"So what are we going to do about you, hmm?"

_Tripping shouldn't be a crime._

"So…" His chin rested on his hands. His glittering, ice-cold eyes bore into me. "You've some explaining to do. Before we… ship you off, the midwife will hear your entire story and remember it as you said it. She can, however, make any edits that may seem necessary."

I had to bite my tongue to refrain from demanding what use there was in the midwife listening to my story anymore. But this was the midwife, and probably she still told _some_ truth, and so probably she'd listen to me—though, sneaking a glance at that fleshy, moon-shaped face beaded with sweat, that seemed unlikely. The flighty woman would probably shy away from anything death-related other than the delicious retellings of what they did to one in Hell.

_l~u~k~a_

I hadn't thought about the midwife forgetting about any part of my story until I opened my mouth (rather reluctantly) to tell it. But _making changes as necessary… _it meant that there was no penalty if she did leave out a chunk of the story I was going to "tell," was it? My father probably wanted her to twist the story in some way, that was his nature, to deceive.

There had never been a reason for me to lie before, but it slipped off my tongue easily. Even though the words came naturally, my heart squeezed with anxiety—at the lie and at the prospect of telling the story anyway.

"I only need to know what took you so long," said the midwife; "the rest is quite clear, where you have gone."

Her frightened bunny eyes, whenever they landed on me, handed me hints on what she might have heard. The faked authority she posed with came as a slap in the face. Just because she was raised a rank higher than me—or that I dropped lower—did not mean that she was high as the heavens. There were plenty above her. My words fueled by indignation, I began.

"We were traveling in the middle of the forest," I said, "when a… _bear_ lumbered out of the trees, stumbling upon our—"

"Hold, hold up. Bears don't live here."

I was annoyed already at her snippy interruption. "They live anywhere, those bears. If it was not one then it looked like one. A huge, furry brown creature, its musky hide glistening with water droplets—" I was better than I thought at storytelling; maybe it was from the midwife. "So it stumbled upon our carriage—"

"Are you attempting to dupe me, Luka?" the woman said sharply. "No animal _stumbles._"

Honestly, this woman… of course animals stumble. "You know what I mean. Anyhow, it came, and stole our food supplies and water—"

"Without you noticing?"

"I _did_ notice!"

"Why did you not come out and help?"

"Was I _expected?_ That's the coachman's job! I yelled for him, but he was somewhere—gathering wood, I suppose—"

"I checked personally," the midwife interrupted; "the meat was salted, the…"

"It gets cold at night. Besides, we needed to warm the meat," I said matter-of-factly.

"Go on, then."

"And—"

"Wait." Her watery eyes, rimmed by pink fat, scanned my suspiciously. "And are you sure that all of the other people in the entourage didn't come out to see? Or were they, too, off on their own, gathering things?"

She was mocking me. The sweet old midwife, who used to be a companion, was mocking me.

"No, they were asleep."

"_All_ of them? Except for _you_?"

"I am a light sleeper."

"So is Yuzuki Yukari. Oh, and you still haven't told me how they disappeared, so mysteriously."

"And _you_, how the men came to find me," I snapped, all of my (limited) patience gone at this point.

"We will be getting to it."

"Well, I will too! Anyway, it was night."

"The coachman is—was, as we do not know where he is—a sensible man," argued the midwife. "A little rash, a little quick to hate, maybe, but a sensible man. He would collect all firewood by sundown, not… at night. When everybody is sleeping. How do you know that he went out to gather?"

"I _don't _know, and I _didn't _know what he was doing! Besides, he wanted us to go a bit faster, bandits on the loose—"

"Ah, we didn't hear about _that_—"

"_HE IS A SENSIBLE MAN, _you said so! So he would obviously _think_ that, with such a magnificent expedition, there would be some robbers about, looking for loot!"

"That's true," the midwife said grudgingly as she sat back in her chair, waiting for me to go on.

"So—"

"There are too many holes in the story. Why did the animal not panic? Why were the others not roused by your shout?"

"I don't know, is that okay with you? I can't possibly know everything!" Cross as I was, I had to give the midwife a little credit—she was smarter than she appeared to be. "But the bear—_animal_, whatever it was—came, took our food, ate some, and that was when—"

The midwife suddenly stood up. Startled, I looked up at her.

"It is an impressive story, Luka," she said, with almost a sneer on her face, "but it has gotten obvious that you're lying."

_l~u~k~a_

My father knew which pressure points to press, how to torture me until it hurt.

And naturally, I was to be kept in a servant's room until the missionaries could come take me away. There was, surprisingly, not a lot of fuss about it in the kingdom… which was just as well, because they did not know me well anyway, and I them. Maybe there was an uproar about it, just kept hidden from me because I hardly ventured out of the palace anyway on a regular basis.

The servant's room was a bare broom closet, maybe a little bigger than that, but a huge assortment of brooms greeted my eyes the moment I opened the door.

Therefore, I was to live among the bushy, scratchy things, made of straw and useless, stiff plants littered all around the palace. It might be better than Father just throwing me out and having the staff all over come and point and laugh at me, but not by a lot. There was not even a window from which I could see out, like there was in the "next land."

On top of that, I didn't get to know how the men came to find me and how much of the true story Father knew, the former miscellaneous but haunting, and the latter frightening.

_Wonderful._

* * *

**I finally got my lazy ass off the ground and wrote another chapter. The next chapter might come just as late, though, because I'm tired (already). And there's still that request on Quizilla that I have to finish up on...**

**Anyhow, I'm a little pissed off right now, due to Masashi Kishimoto killing off Neji. How could he. D: I don't have the energy to argue anymore, so.. let's leave this at that. Thanks for reading/reviewing~**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	11. Ten – My Life is in Your Hands

**Ten – My Life is in Your Hands**

There was not even room for me to lay down, the brooms were crowded as such. I gingerly moved some of the sweepers aside and sat down, my legs crossed. It was not the most comfortable position, but even if I shifted the brooms, I could not lay down.

_Creak._

A mellow slice of light peeked out from the now-opened door. I could recognize the shadow that stood in the doorway… the midwife's, it was.

"Luka," she called out. "Luka, I've come for a reason."

_Go away. I don't want you to see me._

"Luka."

_Go away._

"Luka!"—a much more insistent tone than the last.

_Leave._

Unfortunately, my mind was not good at controlling others' thoughts, and within moment, her shadow was falling across my face.

The midwife pushed me up with jerky movements, although rather gently, perhaps because she was more accustomed to it and was torn over succumbing to habit or acting like she was a true class higher than me. "Come _on_, Luka, the missionaries are here."

"Already."

"Yes, already, they're from the church not far from here. They would have been here sooner if not that one of the missionaries were preaching at another local church and their mule got stuck in mud. How a _mule_ gets stuck in mud, I have no idea and no intention of finding out, but there they are, now hurry."

_l~u~k~a_

It was so unrealistic that even I could not believe this was happening.

It was just ink on the paper that announced me as Luka. Not Luka Megurine. Just Luka. Only Luka.

The missionaries were… kinder, to say the least. A tall, slim man, maybe a little less than double my age, with long violet hair tied back in a ribbon. He eyed me with mistrust, but yielded when the shorter man mumbled something into his ear and smiled benevolently at me. It didn't take long for the smile to be wiped off of the shorter man's face when Father spoke quietly with them both.

Long journey.

_l~u~k~a_

"Father Kamui," said the taller man, offering his hand to me; but seeing that I made no movement with my own, he quickly drew it back again. "Pleased to be with you."

"And I am Father Hatsune. I'm warning you now—life of religion is not the easygoing life that you've been accustomed to. My own sister went against it; that is why I dedicated my life _to_ spreading the love and beauty of God. You will not have any of the luxuries you have been allowed most of your life. This one is a life of helping others—kindness itself is a virtue, but kindness to others is invaluable. It will be a struggle to be beautiful on the inside, but you will be accustomed to it sooner or later. Now we will first begin on your manners," he began in a more brisk tone; "you must reply 'yes, sir,' to each command I make, or anything I say to you. Once I finish, that is."

"Yes, sir." I couldn't help but inject a bit of sarcasm in my voice, which did not go undetected.

"This a life of helping others," Father Hatsune said with a steely glint in his eye. "It begins with manners— well, look at it this way. I now ask you to help me for being polite."

"I've learned all about diplomacy."

Father Gakupo, who seemed to have a weaker and more yielding personality, nudged me pointedly.

"I mean, yes, _sir._"

"This girl will need a lot of work," Father Hatsune said to his purple-haired partner with distaste, in my face, almost as if I wasn't there. I hoped he had not expected me to say "Yes, sir" to an insult, but my mouth did quirk downward.

He didn't. "Anyway," the preacher went on, "I hear you've been… bad to the point of your father disowning you, so I want to hear what you have to say. Each story has two sides to it, after all."

_l~u~k~a_

I hadn't expected the priests to believe me, but they did. Maybe it was of the oath they swore or something, that they would be kind to every creature.

Now don't get me wrong. I have learned religion, and I abide by some facts, though not all. I do pray. I do talk to God. But my mind wasn't built to be particularly religious, and stick to vague beliefs that might not even be proven, and so I always slipped, some way or another, slipped short of what was expected of me in being a good believer.

It wasn't that religion was bad. The concepts were okay. It was only that I didn't like some of them. Those concepts were taught to me so rigidly that it had ruined the simple idea of religion for me. If they came at a slower pace, and were loosened a little, then maybe I could have been better; but when my governesses forced them at me, forced me to read huge passages of holy words at a young age, paragraphs whose lovely, colourful words that I hardly tasted or understood, I could not stand it. The fits I threw about these passages were what put them off. One by one, they left, pronouncing me as the most disagreeable child ever behind their backs.

So I told them what I had experienced (maybe not in detailed form), and a little more about my views. By the time we were finished, we were deep in the forest, tracing the track that we had once gone.

"See?" I said finally, pointing to a nonexistent wheel mark that used to be here, that _had_ to used to be here. "This is where we stopped for the night."

We actually went by quite quickly. Maybe that was because we had only a mule between us and that I took small, quick steps to match up with the long strides of both of the missionaries. The mule was quite docile for a typical mule's personality.

Before long, I had identified several other landmarks that I was vaguely sure that were familiar to me. I did remember, quite sorely too, the hollows that the faeries lingered in. But I didn't try to tell them. They believed in witch-women and sorceries but not mythical beings like faeries. Still, I wasn't sure if they took my word; after all, what was a woman's story against a man's, who was by far more superior than her in more ways than one?

_It's not fair we're not all equal,_ I thought bitterly. _So many things would be right at once if that were to happen._

_l~u~k~a_

Still in the shallow beginning of the forest, the Father Hatsune suddenly stopped. Father Kamui hesitantly halted, and looked at him.

"We are heading to the next land, and through it," he said, a bit of kindness in his voice spared for me. "It might not be best if you come along."

What?

These were missionaries. They had been well paid for and ensured that they'd carry me smoothly throughout the trip, helping out those unfortunate enough to be in poverty, all the way. If it were a few months before, I'd hardly care about helping out the poor, but after my experience, I was less inclined to turn the cold shoulder on them. They were people like us. And for once, I could put my last frustrating relationship away (with Miku, the relationship that hadn't quite branched out to anything valuable yet, and my chance for it to blossom had been deprived), and live a peaceful life as a nun… or something like that. My heart would throb, but after years of mildness and calmness, the throb would fade to a dull pain and fade away. I was eager to forget about Miku; as I thought back to what we had done, a feeling that was not quite shame (if anything, that was far from it)— it was hardly to describe that feeling in its entirety, it was so queer— poured over me. It made my knees shake and my heart beat fast and my cheeks to flush and a deep lust burrow into my heart to think of it, and I did not want to feel that. Pleasant as it was, the feeling was also uncomfortable, especially in company.

Maybe I did carry some remorse for what I had done, but what remorse was there to waste on? It was love. At least I hoped it was, and not lust. I'd had enough of that for a while, watching beautiful young women hungry for money and power try to lure Father in. He'd toy with her, much as how a cat toys with a mouse or grasshopper; and then with the accuracy of a hawk, he would strike and leave her utterly heartbroken. Something about his experience with the mother I never knew had made him wary of women (maybe wary wasn't the best word, because he was hardly _wary_, not even the slightest bit nervous), wary of their habits, their intentions.

After a few moments of staring at them and straying off topic, I finally came to the conclusion that they were abandoning me here. Well, why not? If I could just retrace the path that Miku and I once took, I could find her again. And there would be no limit on what I could do.

"Well… we'll come back for you," said Father Kamui hesitantly.

"How, you leave me here to rot, _sir_?" I had to enjoy teasing him; his personality was far weaker than Father Hatsune's and easier to take advantage of. But since they had no idea about the faeries, what did they expect? Who did they expect would take me in.

"Well… do you remember what I told you about my sister?" Father Hatsune said.

"Yes, sir."

"She loved one of her own gender."

"Yes, sir."

"Well… it just so happens that she wished she could become a faerie when she died— you know, reincarnation, because she doesn't want to stay in heaven if she does go into heaven by committing such a crime already— and since we had close ties to God (don't snort, Luka, priests have ties to God. I should've been stricter to you on the walk here)… Well, after she died because of a rogue man on the streets who decided to teach her a lesson, we prayed that she'd become a faerie."

"Yes, sir."

"So we can pray to God to send her to you and guide you. But the Lord helps only those that help themselves. There are plenty of edible berries here if you know where to look; I feasted on some of those red holly-like berries there."

_God already sent her to me—_ if there was a God in the first place.

"Yes, sir," I said.

"So… while she's taking care of you, we can leave."

"Yes, sir_._"

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye, _sir._"

_l~u~k~a_

I uncomfortably lay down on the ground even though it was only noon. That happened so quickly, much like many of the exchanges that happened in my life.

It was just that whenever I was alone, I had a sudden idea to sleep.

A branch snapped. Then another.

_That can't be right; the coachman must've died by now. Or gone somewhere else. Or… _The crazy idea sprang to my head. What if he was still living here, living off of the roots and berries and the meat from the abundance of life?

_You're too paranoid, Luka,_ I scolded myself. _Just once did you encounter him. It's nothing. It doesn't need to bother you anymore._

But I knew that wasn't true. The sight of him leaning in closer, trying to make our bodies fit together, would be forever branded in my mind. The terrifying sight. And especially since I couldn't struggle against the strong grip. I hadn't wanted to love him, and I didn't want to now.

Then I was in the presence of a doe—how did that happen? The branch-snappings were made by the doe. Slender hooves, she had—at least I thought it was a she; it looked too pretty to be a male, and besides, males had those huge horns on their head—and big, big brown-fringed eyes. I was enthralled, and as she went closer, a mad notion suddenly went into my head. Could I ride a doe? Well, I was light, and she was light-framed, but look how delicate and lithe she was! She would probably be sturdy, too. I was a terrible horse-rider, and I hated the bumps that accompanied it, but a doe was different, wasn't it?

Carefully I stood up. The doe looked at me, ears pricked, ready to spring back and run away.

Then clumsily I grabbed the scruff of her neck and swung myself onto her. She bucked (could female deer buck)? Well, she retreated violently. My heels dug into her flanks, an old trick that I had seen many other riders do. If they could do it, I resolved, so could I.

She had no idea what I was up to, and I didn't know how to make her go forward. Right now, the doe was panicking, trying every method to get me off of her.

I sat very still and tried to get her to calm down, even massaging the areas where I grabbed her. Her sides were soaked with foam.

Suddenly, she took a step.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Riding a doe wasn't that bad after all, it was only that—

Then the deer began to run. Quickly. Too quickly.

_God help me _was the last hypocritical thought that came into my head.

* * *

**I AM OFFICIALLY A BLACK BELT. I took the test yesterday, the eighth. Saturday. I'm a little sad for some reason, but anyhow, _I AM A BLACK BELT! _(aand I'm going to continue my training... to get second degree and third degree black belt. Maybe even fourth.) **

**I slightly dread tomorrow since it's a return to school. Waahh I don't want to return to school.**

**Please _enjoy_ the chapter! (Or otherwise tell me why you _don't_ or _didn't_ enjoy it. Thanks, .)**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	12. Eleven – Catastrophe After Catastrophe

**Eleven – Catastrophe after Catastrophe**

It was strange. For some reason, the doe brought me to the Mother Tree, shook me off, and pranced away without even a look back. It was night now. I must have been riding her for two or three hours or so, but then the doe should have stopped to take a rest, shouldn't it? Instead, it just kept running until the ancient tree loomed in front of me.

In the darkness, the mind creates images solely to frighten oneself. I hadn't minded as much in other instances, because I always knew that someone or something was there to protect me. But the Tree here was entirely lifeless. The other trees that surrounded it whispered as a hot night wind blew with no consolation offered whatsoever. I hadn't realized it, but my frock was soaked through with sweat. Even though the wind brought hot dryness with it, my clothes stuck to my skin and I shivered with the chill.

I never liked being alone.

I crept toward the entrance to the Mother Tree. Surely, last time, it wasn't as small?

Every little movement startled me. From a bird shifting its position in its nest atop a tree branch to the soft whistle of tree leaves shuffling against each other, I jumped whenever I heard something even acutely louder than a night wind.

Shadows danced in the corner of my eye. The moonlight cast an eerie spell over everything.

My heart was throwing itself against my chest.

_Which way again?_ I thought desperately. _Headfirst or feetfirst?_

I thought I remembered Miku saying, "Headfirst," but feetfirst had always felt safer for me. Besides, it didn't look like my head could fit into that tiny gap. (Not that my feet could either, but I had two feet, and each foot was slimmer than my head.)

I carefully lifted up the hem of my scratchy woolen dress, the one that the missionaries gave me, hoping that nobody would see my ankles when I slide in. Or for my private regions, for that matter. I already had my doubts about the feetfirst idea, but a little tweak of the rules shouldn't matter… I had broken enough already, so why not break another?

My foot edged in. By this time, my teeth were chattering and my skin was numb and I couldn't distinguish the cold (it was not cold, for it was a warm spring this year) from my so-called fear. Goosebumps prickled on my skin. I couldn't believe that it was the Mother Tree that was making me feel this way—they had it named "Mother" for a reason, right? I had never met mine, but if one were to have a mother, I supposed they'd fuss over you and cluck over you and love you for you were their child. I knew it enough from the tale of my birth.

_Everything she told you might have been a lie,_ I reminded myself, and straightened up.

Still, the midwife was the closest resemblance to a mother that I had ever had. I had also seen chickens while I was strolling around with my horse, a beautiful white one obtained through trading, with slender feet and a braided mane. Once I came across little chicks hatching. The fuzzy white and yellow beings were cute to me, the way they ambled along, but I soon had lost interest in them. Anyhow, the mother was clucking over them, ruffling her feathers— and I supposed this was what a true mother was to be like.

Then again, many of the upper ladies, the ones I had had drinks with, the ones I had to entertain while Father discussed important things with the husbands, had little children running about underfoot, too. The mothers were languid and calm and hardly snuck a peek at their children.

_Not me,_ I remembered thinking, proudly. _If I had a mother, my mother would _never _be able to keep her eyes off me— I am beautiful and a princess. I would also hound her attention, day and night, so she might never busy herself with something else._

I blushed, thinking how strangely selfish that sounded.

…

I was thinking myself as selfish?

All of these thoughts passed through my head in a minute or less, for I quickly brushed aside the distraction and eased my foot in further. I could feel the rough, coarse dirt sloping downward, stones scraping against the sole of my foot.

I kept going. I couldn't find anything as a foothold. And the hole did not expand.

Maybe I should have gone in with my head first. I always _had_ to regret my decisions after I do them.

Then my foot hit something cold and hard, shattering it. I jerked my foot back—regardless, I didn't hit the ground. Maybe it was the momentum that catapulted me forward, but I found myself suddenly falling, falling, the air whizzing all around me. The last whiff of anything real was a breathtakingly fragrant smell of crushed lavenders.

_l~u~k~a_

One of the scariest things about falling in darkness is that one cannot see what is around them that might break their fall or break themselves. Especially if one is falling down a tunnel that seemed never to end.

I couldn't tell whether my eyes were open and closed, but I did hope—for the sake of hoping—that I'd have a soft landing. Since I was not like a cat, that thought did not bode well with me… or rather, my body. Besides, the last time I had gone here, there had been stairs. Where were the stairs?

I also could have sworn that I smelled the lavenders before. The only thing was that I was sure faeries did not crush their lavender, what little lavender they had, and they certainly didn't dry it for use of its oil. Or maybe they did. I did not see them when I was there.

This and other worries nagged at my mind. I hated it when I could not remember something that seemed so familiar but so out of reach. Actually, that was like how I was about anything. I always wanted to win.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it had to be around five minutes. Five minutes of plain falling? The heart of the faeries' home must be deep underground. Maybe they removed the steps, because I remembered something of an eternity getting down the steps, too. Then I'd fall onto a hard, dirt-packed floor, and it would just be like the way it was when I first came, except without Miku.

Except I wasn't landing.

_l~u~k~a_

Somewhere along the way, my eyelids drooped. "Drooped" might not be the right word, but such a hazy dizziness came over me. I didn't try to prevent it. It felt good, and eased the gnawing fear in my belly.

I tried closing my eyes, but there was no difference as when I opened or closed them. The insides of my lids were the same color of the vast, empty outside. I couldn't even see my own limbs, although I could feel that all of my body parts were still intact.

A snarling sound ripped through the silence.

I turned abruptly—as abruptly as I could—but there was nothing. My back was starting to hurt; so was my neck. This position of ever falling was getting uncomfortable and scary.

Besides, I felt like throwing up what little I ate today. Then suddenly my heel smashed into something dusty—maybe an old work of pottery—and the world around me spun several times between a glaring light hit my eyes. A faerie leaned over me, shaking me, telling me something. I didn't know what she was saying, but it made my head throb.

"_Ow_," I mumbled with a straight face because it was expected of me, but really, it didn't quite hurt at all.

_l~u~k~a_

The faerie leaning over me turned out to be one named Iroha, I found out a few hours later. Iroha said that I had fainted (something that didn't happen often, so I even had a tutor to teach me how to faint properly in a graceful way), and she found the Jar of Fear shattered when she was out to see what all the bumping around up in the Mother Tree was. So then she—I'll trace into Iroha's words here exactly—"I reached into the depths of my conscience and pulled you out, because that's how the Jar of Fear works. Sorry that you had to keep falling for some time. I was fumbling and couldn't get to you. I think you felt sleepy the first time I actually brushed you? Yeah. I'm not bragging, I saved your life!"

I hadn't said anything about her bragging, of course, partly because I did a bunch of it. I didn't understand how the Jar of Fear could kill me, but then again, I wasn't ready to try.

I was finally back.

The only problem was how I was going to stay here. How I was going to fit in. _Personal experience with merpeople,_ had said the Elf Queen. _You will camouflage into nature, and will not become visible again until a few seconds before you die._ And what of Miku? I hadn't seen her.

_You will camouflage into sleep and worry about it tomorrow,_ I snapped to myself. _That's right. Tomorrow._

Maybe it was unwise for me to keep postponing events forward and forward into the future, like asking Queen Suzune about what exactly she meant about merpeople, but I _was_ lazy inside. It was much too easy to forget about one's worries for one night and think about them tomorrow. There was always a tomorrow as far as I was concerned. That might not be actually true, but it provided comfort for my churning mind.

* * *

**I have an unfinished beta project to get to, but right now I don't want to beta, just write. I passed my afternoon drawing cats. **

**~Unyielding Wish**


	13. Twelve – I Asked For Release

**Twelve – I Asked For Release**

"I had you warned," said Queen Suzune.

"I know."

"And you came back." Her gaze bore into me. Her eyes were gentle, which lessened the forbidding spell of her scolding stare greatly, but they often had the hard, distant look. The coolness of which she was so popular for among the faeries.

"I know."

"You heeded my warning not."

"I know."

"Luka, you do realize that this means danger for you."

"I know. But why danger? I am safe here. I will just fade, that is all."

"But it is lonely," she persisted.

"Lonely? Why lonely? Seeing Miku happy will make me ha—" I clapped a hand over my mouth. What was I saying? I had just confessed in a rather indirect way.… One glance at Queen Suzune's face and I knew that she uhad caught that too. _Seeing Miku happy will make me happy,_ I was about to say. Since when did I start saying things like that? Never. In the castle I was totally separated from everybody that interacted with me. I could care less about their suffering, as long as they tended to my own. I was starting to have second thoughts about my terrible, rude behavior to the servants (whom I didn't really consider as people before the trip on January 15).

An awkward silence crept by.

"Luka," said Queen Suzune finally, "do you know that faeries are reborn?"

"That, yes."

"They are reborn, often from a suffering or terrible life that ended with a heartwrenching crash. They are given a second chance at life. Maybe it was love, maybe it was murder, maybe it was just… sadness and loss. Faeries are to guide and help, but as time passes, less and less faeries contribute to the moral values we were created for… and take advantage of their lithe bodies. You hear of faeries breaking men's hearts all the time."

"Yes," I said, remembering Father screaming at my grandfather, a poor old man with a sunken mouth and lidless eyes and looked as if his flesh were rotting. I could see the individual segments of the bones in his hands, his ribs jutting out through his torn, threadbare clothes, his stomach stretched tightly over his sharp hip bones. I was maybe seven, and my grandfather had come, with his crazy hair and limping gait, to beg for the land Father had taken away from him when Father found out that he had fallen in love with a faerie, after Father's mother died. Looking back, I realized that my family had indeed had been involved greatly in faerie movements.

"I'm concerned for you," Queen Suzune finally said.

"Everybody is."

"Luka, I am serious."

"Ohh…" I remembered the question I was going to ask Queen Suzune. "Where's Miku?"

She pinched her lips together. "That is not something I should tell you."

"Where's Miku?" _What had she done to make Queen Suzune act like this? _I started to become scared. _Had she…_ she was rash, adventurous… I remembered that time, looking at the robin and the dove. "_They're both female. And different species. But somehow the same. That is like us. Although they might not love each other, some strange affection seems to exist between them. I wish I could be like that."_ "She didn't… she… the sparrow?"

"She caught it and was doing something strange with it, almost strangling it, screaming, 'I want to be you!'"

"I never saw her doing that," I whispered. "And I tail her the entire time, basically because I'm more comfortable with her than any other faerie."

"You were not there."

At least that was explained, but more questions arose. _What does Miku do when I'm not around? What do I think she does? Is Miku different when she's not around me?_

"No, she is not," Queen Suzune said. "At least, not very. Ever since you came, though, she acts a little queer about the subject of you. Gets a light in her eyes, like affection and fear all at once." It took me a moment to realize I voiced my last question out loud.

"Well then… Stop beating around the bush with me. Tell me what happened."

"You don't want to know what happened."

"No, I do."

"No, you don't," Queen Suzune said fiercely.

I recoiled and for once, didn't know how to respond.

"Just because you _love_ her doesn't mean that you need to know _every single detail of her life,_" Queen Suzune continued, practically spitting the words at me. "Why do you think I know this? Do you think I am stupid? I'm trying to keep you from destruction. I lived in a land near a salty sea; since I was born, I knew how to swim, fish, and do other water-related things that in _your_ kingdom is only reserved for men. But one day my fisherman father and I went out to sea and a big storm came, overturning the boat. I sunk under, couldn't breathe… and he disappeared to somewhere I still don't know today."

She paused angrily, panting, before picking up her story. "I paddled with my hands. Tried to. The waves were too choppy, too strong, crashing hard over my head. Soon I was delirious from underwater suffocation and exhaustion and I fell asleep.

"But then when I opened my eyes, not heaven was I in, but…" She laughed bitterly. "But I was in a dark, glimmering cove. The first things I saw were hands. Not hands like ours. Soft, webbed hands, with long, spindly fingers that would be wonderful for weaving, void of fingernails. Then hair neither thick nor thin, neither long nor short. Finally a beautiful long tail, which was scaly, smooth, and reptilian, with a split fin at the end. The mermaid also had fins at her elbows.

"Took me a while to fall in love. But I did. Like your love with Miku. I fell in love with the mermaid, who also happened to be the leader of the tribe of mermaids' daughter. He was furious… namely with her falling in love with someone not a mermaid— surprisingly, he didn't care much about the gender. But she was the one who rescued me, took care of me, comforted me. And I was attached to her.

"And look what happened to me now! After staying a few years or so with them, I suppose, I began to turn transparent. Fade. Life became harder and harder for me. The only mermaid or other sea creature that would believe I was not a ghost was her. And finally… I died. Became flesh and bone again just in time for me to die, just in time to whisper 'Thank you' one more time to her. Aaaaaand… after an eternity in Hell, or so it seems, I'm here."

We stared at each other for a moment, me defiant, she furious. Finally, Queen Suzune tore her gaze away, admitting defeat, murmuring, "I was trying to tell you, this love is wrong, like a sheep attracted by a deer."

"Who is the sheep and who is the deer?"

"Luka," reproved Queen Suzune, although she was smiling benevolently. "You know what I mean."

"Wrong in which way? The sex way or the race way?" I was standing up now, the scratchy woolen dress that I had changed into brushing my ankles. Realizing that it was short and that my ankles might be visible by the dress's movement, I quickly settled down my movement and waited for the swishing to stop.

She thought for a moment. "Both," she said, cautiously. "You see, it is against—"

"I _know_! Do you _know_ how many times I was talked to about that in the exact same way and exact same words?"

"Then why don't you…" For a moment, it was clear that she was struggling with herself, struggling to bring out something within, struggling to make a confession. Then that moment of insecurity lifted, and Queen Suzune's face became smooth again. "So I see…" she whispered.

"See what?"

"Luka, I will help you." Suzune stood up so her face was level to mine. "I will help you get rid of this love of yours."

"I don't need your help!"

I had watched this scene unfold in front of my very eyes, and even though I was a participant in that scene, it was as if I was watching from above, that I was already dead and I was a ghost. I turned on my heel now, not caring whether the dress revealed my ankles or not (why was revealing one's ankles, particularly a woman's, a deadly crime, anyway?). I looked briefly at Queen Suzune's face, which was now a lovely expression of confusion and understanding at the same time, somehow mixed together in a marvelously mind-boggling way. And what do you suppose I did?

I fled.

_l~u~k~a_

Many a story I had heard, and yet I still had to do what the main heroine always did. I ran away and got lost.

_I'll never learn._

I had had only one journey through this area of the forest, and every way I looked, it was still the same to me. There were no footprints. I stepped toward a puddle consisting of the early morning dew that dripped off ferns and trees and vines once warmed by the sun. My image flickered. I considered the thought that I was disappearing already, but rejected the thought—Suzune was making me paranoid. The sun's rays, not quite yet warm on my back, was shining at just the right angle for that when I blinked, my hand would seem to move up and down without me doing anything.

I sat down on the ground, ripping some grass from the thickly-carpeted floor of green. They were fibrous and held strong when I tried to break it apart, not like the brittle, sun-dried grass of autumn.

_Miku, why did you catch that sparrow? What were you going to do with it? Miku, what has happened to you? Did that happen the same way the first time around? Were you that possessive of your lover?_ And what had happened to her?

I now knew why people pined away for love. It was an aching resemblance, love. In fact, love wasn't very different from hate—probably what set it apart from hate was that love was all pleasantries and hate was black and angry. "Love" and "hate" were just words labeling feelings that could not be described. Love and hate both made my heart flutter, though not necessary in the same way. They both made my chest burn. They both made me want to protest against… itself, I guess.

"Thinking will not get me anywhere," I muttered, standing up again—not that standing up would be much of a help to me. At once I wished I could change time and decide to listen to Queen Suzune before _leaving in the direction of the Mother Tree._

"Wishing will not get me anywhere either."

At least that I had learned now, to be more practical. My whole life had been spent in a lovely fantasy, and while it was not as lovely as it could have been (if only I had doting parents; more attention; been loved by all people), it was certainly more warm and hazy than this stark reality spread before my eyes.

It would probably be best to stay here until someone or something found me, but I didn't know how to find things to eat, didn't know where all of the faerie-berry bushes were (and likely their blooming season was long past), didn't even know what was edible and what was not, and did not trust any stream running through the place due to what had happened to Yuzuki Yukari. Besides, I had no idea exactly how long I was going to stay. Then again, staying still was probably the best resolution, since moving would make me even more lost unless I traveled in a big circle.

_She probably won't go after me, anyway. It's up to me,_ I thought. So I got up and looked around. Maybe I could live a few years on roots and berries…

"Stop." I swallowed, and it was then that I realized I had a lump in my throat. My stomach was twisted in a knot, and I tried desperately to calm my quivering insides. It wouldn't do to hurl now—maybe later, but not now.

With each step, I became more lost. Forests are mystic things. They work against you in the queerest ways. Once you become its friend, it will serve you, but during the time when it's testing you, it will not do you a thing in help.

_l~u~k~a_

I was beginning to get hungry. Whenever I was worried, hunger in my mind pushed away all else. Faeries lived in harmony with nature, I understood that—and I had lived with faeries a while. But the parts of the forest they occupied were the only places I ever roamed; and often, I roamed with Miku.

Standing in front of a brook, with fishes swimming abundantly in the water, my stomach wailed for the deliciously cooked fish that I used to have at the palace. My favorite dish was tuna. Tuna, sprinkled with onions, leeks, and peppers, and other spices. But there was no tuna in this brook; and it might even been the brook whose water killed Yuzuki Yukari. Besides, I liked tuna being at least three feet long.

Even though my situation didn't quite permit it, I choked back laughter when I thought about me, standing naked in front of the brook. And then Miku appeared…

I had thought I was naive while I was standing there, waiting for something to happen. But as I thought, I was even naive then. Looking back on this if I might survive, I would probably think I was naive, being here now.

Anyhow, the thing was, I was standing here, being sappy about memories and Miku. I didn't know what punishment she got—assuming she got any punishment. Queen Suzune… what was that that she said? "_Just because you love her doesn't mean that you need to know every single detail of her life! Why do you think I know this? Do you think I am stupid? I'm trying to keep you from destruction!"_

That was true. But I worried for Miku and wondered what Miku was doing right now—supposing that she was still alive.

All this. And I somehow didn't feel annoyed at Miku, like I would have been, before I had gone through these ordeals (as I have no other word to describe them). I felt, in fact, strangely at peace. So be it if Father didn't want me there. I only wished I could find a way to get back at him for hiding everything from me these past few years—secrets that I haven't even come close to discovering even now.

Then there was a teal glow across the brook.

_l~u~k~a_

Just like before. I could not believe my eyes. Was this truly…?

A translucent female figure took shape. It wasn't like last time. It wasn't a mirage.

She was the same Miku, but Miku was holding something in her hands—a sparrow. She was lying on the ground, coughing, shaking, stroking the sparrow.

"Miku… what happened to you?" I whispered.

_l~u~k~a_

"She punished me," Miku said flatly.

"I know _that_. How?"

Miku shrugged. "I'm starting to revise my thoughts on faeries can't be all-powerful beings. Or maybe Queen Suzune had help from someone. I knew she thought I was insane. But I'm not insane! I'm _not_, I'm _not!_ Luka…" She coughed, her body shaking. This continued for several seconds before she looked up again with tear-filled eyes. Miku reached out, but the brook was too wide for her to touch me.

"Luka… do _you_ think I'm insane too?"

"Insane? No, that's crazy!"

_But did I?_

"Don't…" she gasped. "Don't… don't think I'm insane. Please?"

"You're not insane."

"There is no conviction in your voice."

The sight of Miku reminded me of the girl I saw when I was going back to Father's palace—all ragged and thin and worn out—Yuki? That was surprising, because Miku looked far from Yuki. Although Miku's dress was rather tattered, she didn't look that hungry.

Somehow, though, they looked similar enough to make me remember Yuki when looking at Miku. I realized it was the expression: Yuki and Miku had the same starved, desperate eyes, with a tiny glint of hope, begging, straining to hear what she wanted to believe. Aching to hear something that comforted her, even if it were a lie.

How much pain had Miku hidden from me?

"She… took my wings away," Miku gasped. "The basic thing that made me a faerie, gave me faerie blood. Without them, I am gone. A weak, weak human. Like those that fade and become truly alive when they die. I… haven't truly felt these emotions s… since… years and years ago. Being a faerie, human emotions are just games. Pricks to… keep the excitement moving."

"You were buried under layers and layers of hurt the whole time? How is that possible?" _Oh, get over your stupid fear of huge bodies of water, Luka. Get. Over. It. There are more important things right now than your phobia…_

Miku grimaced. "It is. I tried not to feel. I… separated, so I can look at famine and suffering without feeling a thing. But it's… coming back… making me repent… my actions…"

_Repent._ The word lingered in my mind for just a moment before I dove into the water and resurfaced, gasping for air, on the other side. Miku cracked a weak smile and reached out, but the tips of her fingers barely brushed the side of my hand. It was strange—I _felt_ her fingers, but they seemed to go through me, as if I were nothing but water.

"Miku—what—what _is_ this?"

"… already… fading…"

"Fading for what? Suzune condemned you for just taking a sparrow? That's… disgusting! She has a similar backstory to mine—"

Miku shook her head. "Drink… something… give me something to drink…"

"The water here is not healthy."

"I'll die anyway—" Her dry, chapped lips parted momentarily after she finished the word "die", as if she was taking in a breath so she couldn't say another word until she let that breath out. I felt cold again, fearful, like something terrible was going to happen. Maybe it was because of _I'll die anyway._

"You won't die anyway," I said automatically. It sounded unconvincing and it was.

"Just… give me the water… _quick—_" She coughed again, her voice sounding raspy and hoarse and as if she had to force each word out. I cupped some water with my hands from the brook and dribbled some into her mouth. Miku swallowed hard, and a few tense moments passed between us. Finally, she made a noise like a cross between a hiccup and a sigh, and her whole body relaxed. "That's better. Now I can talk. No, she didn't just do this to me because of the sparrow. It may have contributed to what happened, though…"

"Why? What did you do?" I forced myself to make my voice gentle, soothing. As if nothing bad would happen. As if this was just a bad dream.

_How I wish it would be a bad dream,_ I thought sardonically. And I would wake up any second now, on January 15, 1515, and there would be a big celebration, and nobody would send me away. But that was just a fantasy.

But dreaming of fantasies was a time long gone.

Miku's imploring eyes bore into me. "Are you sure… you want to know?"

I took a deep breath.

"Yes," I said finally. "I need to know everything."

* * *

**Yeah well, sorry about it, this chapter is shit. I typed everything up in three hours - that's ~1,000 words per hour, ~17 words per minute. xD Don't worry, I don't actually type that slow (my record is 111 wpm LOL BRAGGING RIGHTS; but I usually achieve around a 90-something), I just think for a few seconds before typing a word. ._. Every word has to be perfect guys. ... No... what I really do is go into writing spurts where I write for about thirty minutes at a time, then become distracted by youtube - RISHE IS THE BEST MOTHERFUCKERS - for another thirty minutes.. stuff like that... **

**(well not really because I just said that this chapter is shit) (but honestly with summer and all - here I am bitching about my classes and volunteering/workplace thingy days - I don't have any time during the week to write) You know, the funny thing is that I'm actually busier during the summer than during school.**

**... I feel like I'm bragging and complaining at the same time. Like a spoilt child. Kay I'll stop now. This is a long A/N.**

**Thank you guys for reading/reviewing as always. I'll get a Mipiko or a Miki/Kaito or some other Miki story up soon, after this one. And a oneshot. Let's not forget the oneshots. Anyhow, the ideas are beginning to sprout! **

**~Unyielding Wish**


	14. Thirteen– Bring Me To You, Intoxicate Me

**Thirteen – Bring Me To You, Intoxicate Me**

"She's… had something against me since the start," Miku said. "Maybe because I was so—so impulsive— like her."

"You know her history, too?"

Miku looked at me oddly. "Everyone knows… what the Queen did… in her past life."

"Oh. Okay. Never mind, then. Yes? Go on?"

A shudder rippled through Miku's slim body. She winced. "Crushing… my chest… there was terrible pain… and then—and then—and—and then…" Her eyes went blank in the way that she knew I was there, but she couldn't see me, just the horrific images behind her eyelids. Her trembling hand grabbed mine and grasped it tightly. "My wings— they were gone… disappeared… and—and there was laughter, horrid, horrid laughter… and I was stumbling—"

I shook her, and Miku blinked, her eyes seeming to focus again. "Miku… _what_ are you talking about?"

"The—oh." She looked confused for a moment and coughed before answering my question. "That was what happened with the wings."

"Yes, but why did she take them away?"

Miku's eyes began to go faraway again. "A… number of things. I suppose… I suppose I reminded her of her own self. _You_, of course, might probably be more like her. But… somehow, when she looked at me… she seemed to see herself. Or the mermaid she once knew. But… guess she wasn't too happy about that… guess she didn't want it to happen…"

"Queen Suzune wasn't the person I thought her to be. I thought of her to be more… more…" I struggled for the right words to say. But at least I was finally pouring out some of my frustrations to her.

"Oh, but Luka, you should see that—that she _is_ kind… and good," said Miku, blinking her large cyan eyes up at me. "But… just like any living being… she experiences jealousy, fear… human emotions, as faeries are related to human beings like mermaids. Yes, they are just small sensations… but when they grow, they are almost unstoppable. Do not hold a grudge against her, Luka, she… she doesn't understand you… as much as you understand yourself." She rasped out the last part in an unsteady voice. She gulped. "There's not much time left in the world for me, Luka…"

I gripped her even more tightly. "Where will you be afterwards?"

"Don't know… faeries interact with nature more than most other humanoid species… maybe… another rebirth… but this time reincarnation—reincarnation into a bird… a sparrow, perhaps, like the sparrow I caught… or maybe… Hell again…"

"But really, why _is_ that such a big deal? Our country catches quail all the time. It's good to eat."

Miku shot me a disgusted look. "Of course _you _would do that; you are all humans—humans without any magical or special power… but with a huge amount of pride and thickheaded courage and perseverance… humans, the species related to us, that knows toil… but us, nature is sacred to us, and to do something that may occur as minor to you… it is a huge offense in our world."

"I'm sorry."

"We are not bothered… by your actions… unless it's in this very forest—or other places we faeries dwell. But I lost control… out of the emotion envy… envy, strong as a snake's poison. I couldn't help it—I hated it that the sparrow and robin were so happy—well, I actually don't know if they… really were in love or not." She laughed but soon became sober again.

"About the water," I said finally.

"Yes… what about it?"

"Will it kill you?"

"Queen Suzune's… curse… will kill me before the illness… consumes me completely…" She paused. "I am already surprised that… I'm living so long… it's not that painful, either; just prickles down my spine… my eyelids weighing down with warm drowsiness…"

"Oh, no, Miku," I said, alarmed. "No. Don't die. Don't die. _No._"

"You realize… that I am only… stalling for time?"

"You mean you die of will?"

"Just barely holding on, but… it will take me soon no matter what."

Warm tears threatened to spill over. I wanted to be a spoiled child, stomping my foot, yelling at Miku not to die, as if death was something that could be controlled. But here she was, sliding out of my grasp even though I was holding her so tightly, asking more and more questions to keep her from slipping away.

I was alone again.

Self-sorriness threatened to take over, but I blinked and shoved all of the feelings away. I had to be calm. For Miku. She can't see me like this.

… Or maybe she could?

Suddenly, there was a terrible retching sound—a horrible gurgling noise that came from Miku's throat. She clambered to her knees, gasping for breath, her normally peach-toned skin white and beaded with perspiration. The sparrow (the bird we had both forgotten about) took this chance to fly out of her hands. Miku fell onto her stomach, trembling all over.

"Miku?" I asked gently, but my throat was already hurting from the tears I was going to shed anyway.

Her eyelids fluttered and her pupils zoomed out of focus. Miku lurched forward, her knuckles turning white as she grabbed blades of grass to steady herself. "Even—even I'm unclear on all I have done to _her_, but it… they… must have been huge crimes—"

"You did not murder…?"

"That would have been an _unspeakable_ crime… not a mere huge crime."

"It's all my fault."

"It's mine."

I choked back a sob. "What about with me?"

"Well, this one… it would be… you know too well…" Looking closely at Miku, I realized that there were tears glistening on her eyelashes. She roughly raised a hand to brush them away, but halfway up to her eyes, her hand went limp and she looked imploringly back up at me again. "Promise—promise me…"

"I promise you."

_I don't know why, but I've always likened Life to a candle._

Miku's expression told me that her heart was breaking for the second time.

"If I die… do you… do you promise—… _Promise me! _Please! Don't break it!" She was screaming by now, crazy for someone to relieve her of the thoughts that would break not just her heart but her mind. My hand was getting red from being squeezed so hard. "If… if I should fade away—you _will_, won't you?" Desperation filled her voice, which arced up in a much higher pitch than the one that she usually employed. "You _will_, won't you? You will? Please! Please! Whatever you do, _don't—don't forget me._"

"I will not forget you, Miku—"

"And—and don't forgive me—"

"Forgive you? What should I hate you for—"

_Maybe it's because it's so needed and precious._

"For… leaving you… without any notice. Harbor hate for me—because, after all, friendship is the equal balance of hate and love." She smiled through her tears, and it just then struck me how beautiful she was. But she was already fading. Her body was getting paler by the second, and I could see nature through her. I could see the grass withering up, the ground turning dry, the trees next to her turning to stumps—and I could see a strangely-clothed man in the distance wearing a patched straw hat, and holding something that looked like a broom except with spikes at the end.

_Maybe it's because, with a wrong blow, its flame could be exterminated. _

It was just a second before I saw trees again and Miku's flickering figure.

"This is the future of the spot I am in now," she whispered. "Luka—remember—don't forget me—or forgive… No matter what."

_Or maybe it's because everybody seems to mirror a candle, more or less._

I laid her head on my lap, running my fingers through her soft hair, which was getting dimmer by the second. _I have to be strong for her. Don't cry, don't show emotion. Just this once. I don't have to be strong ever again._ It was queer watching death in action; her face seemed to become peaceful but somehow strained by the moment. Her eyelids drooped.

"Fifteen seconds," she whispered raspily.

Just fifteen seconds. Time was slipping away.

I could feel her heartbeats through her skin. Each one seemed to be converted into sound through touch. It was as if I was living her life with her.

"Ten."

"Rest, Miku. Just close your eyes… it'll be over sooner that way…" I swallowed but somehow forced the last sentence out. "You don't have to stay alive for me."

"Oh, but I do, Luka. Seven seconds. You want to know why? I finally found someone… someone who understands my concept of home…"

I found myself looking into pained green eyes.

"Five."

"Just rest, Miku. Don't count. It would be happier this way."

"I want my last moments to be… lucid—not dreamy. Three."

I could hear her heart going slower and slower.

"Two. I—I've always wondered… what a dead person's skin felt like." Her eyes glazed over. "I… love you, Luka."

"I love you too, Miku," I whispered.

_One._

In a heartbeat, her life flickered out.

_Just like a used candle gasping its last breath._

_l~u~k~a_

I stood up, brushing fallen leaves and branches off my lap, while carefully setting Miku down on the ground. I hadn't any idea of how long I had stayed with Miku, but the sky was getting red-streaked and gold-filled. The sun, a huge ball of fire, slowly sank below the horizon. I watched the sunset through the cracks between the leaves of the dark silhouettes of the trees. A perfect fiery _boom_ to indicate another spirit's passing.

_I am the daughter of a lord._

Gently I arranged her hair and limbs, and tore flowers from the ground to sprinkle over her, to make it look like she was just playing and then fell asleep. I was calm. I was expressionless. Inside, I was burning with rage and grief. My heart was in a dozen pieces and my mind probably as well, but I managed to keep my composure like a true lady.

_I love not. I know not._

Miku's features had become less faerie-like and more human-like as she met her end. She looked just like another mortal lady like me. Someone—a prince, perhaps—could easily mistake her for a sleeping beauty.

_And I will not open my heart to succumb to such weakness._

Her skin hadn't suddenly become waxy or wrinkled or dry, I mused as I hid the torn parts of my dress. Her skin didn't even go under a huge transformation. The warmth had just quietly leaked out of it.

_What a pathetic want, to fall in love._

I began to walk and my ankle brushed against her outstretched hand.

I bent down to kiss her on the forehead. "Goodbye, Miku." And then I walked on.

_Her forehead doesn't feel very strange, either_, I thought.

Just very, very cold.

A light, sleepy chirping came from nowhere; looking up, I saw a sparrow. It chirped some more, hopped around, and then flew off into the sunset.

* * *

**Kay, so I know I'm going to ruin the entire mood here, but there's one more chapter left. Like an epilogue. So stay for that one.  
**

**I know I'm going to get _noooo how could you_ reviews. xD Well, anyway, thank you for reading!**

**~Unyielding Wish**


	15. Fourteen – The Girl Who Has Found Love

**Fourteen – The Girl Who Has Found Love**

A sparrow and a robin sat on branches hanging over a calm, man-made lake, on the estate of a wealthy man named Kiyoteru. They chittered excitedly with each other. Other than the chirps that were rapidly exchanged back and forth between the two birds, there was no other sound.

A pink-haired woman walked by, holding a child by the hand. The sparrow immediately hushed the robin.

The beginnings of lines were just beginning to form at the corners of the woman's eyes, but still she managed to to look young. Right now, she smiled. "Look over there, Mayu. Do you see the sparrow and the robin?"

"I see," said the girl eagerly.

"Look at those beautiful birds. They're different species. But they're still birds. Somehow they're the same. Although those birds might not love each other, some affection seems to exist between them." The woman exhaled. "You don't understand now, Mayu, but you soon will."

"Mother… does this have to do with… you and Lord Luki?"

"He's still alive?" murmured the woman.

"Alive but old and weak," Mayu said. "Father's gaining more support by the minute. Are you not happy, Mother? Soon, you and me and Tsubame and Yuuma and Aoki Lapis will be the royal family, and you and Father will rule! Isn't that nice? And Father's so kind to everyone. Oh, remember that story about how you and Father met in that forest? Also how he initially thought you were insane but accepted it as you because he loved you just that much? I wish I'd find someone like that for me!"

"It's not always like that," the woman said drily.

"I know. My marriage will probably be arranged. But can he be a nice person I can love?"

"I'll see if I can get such a man."

Mayu positively glowed. "Thank you so much, Mother!"

"Now run along now. I'm sure Aoki Lapis is wanting of her supper."

"What about you, Mother?"

"I'll stay here for a while."

The sparrow watched her with big, thoughtful eyes. The robin surveyed her also.

"Miku… you make me feel so guilty. Of course… I have affection for Kiyoteru now; he is so kind and benevolent, and has a beautiful soul. Brought me out of my period of insanity, although I think a little part of me will always be wild for you. Wild and insane for you…" She chuckled.

_'You're fine, Luka. I like you. Whatever happens between us, I'll still like you! You'll do fine in the world!'_

_Was that not what you said to me in that forest?_

"When Kiyoteru and I are dead and gone, Tsubame will ascend the throne. Yuuma is an ambitious little man, but he'll get his turn if anything should happen to kind, gentle Tsubame—as Tsubame takes after his father Kiyoteru.

"But Miku… you taught me something big. Something important. Love is not about powerful descendants or expanding territory or different genders or babies—although babies are the high point of a marriage, the most honored ritual. But you know, love… it's a fickle thing, it is… love is love. Love is enjoyment. Love is the meaning of life—right up there next to happiness and comfort. Love is the supplier of both.

"But love is also a mystical thing that's not to be pondered over for long. Love is enjoyment. Love is… everything. So living life with love… that's what you taught me, Miku. That's what my experiences with you taught me."

The woman looked to the sky, a smile on her lips. She would have to go inside soon. But before that… "Thank you, Miku. I still… I still love you, very much."

She turned and left, with a bounce in her step.

On the other side of the lake, there was a barely audible rustle, and the softly glowing spirit of a young woman came forward. Her eyes were snappy with the light of renewed life. As the rays of dusk gently faded away to make way for night, a whisper of content and peace rippled through the air. She blinked, unmasked fondness lingering in her eyes.

"Thank _you_, Luka," said the woman softly to the retreating back of the person she once knew. "Thank you for everything. I can finally… rest in peace." With a bright, happy laugh, her image slowly faded away, and a star in the sky glinted brightly as Miku disappeared.

And as for Luka? There was understanding in the air and bliss with each breath. Life was popping up all around her; it was spring, after all. She had a new baby in her stomach that was due anytime now (she really shouldn't be walking around like this). Her family and friends were stable, and they were rising in power; nothing her father could dream up of doing could hurt her now. Tender green shoots were popping up on the ground, illuminated by the moon, which had just come out. Luka was so giddy that she felt like dancing like a little girl among those young, young plants.

_A love life isn't one to be ridiculed then, ne, Miku?  
_

* * *

**Waaaah, thank you all~!  
**

**This story is officially finished. Thanks to all of you for your support! (;**

**THANK YOU FOR READING.**

**Oh god the feels... ;-;**

**~Unyielding Wish**


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